|
“You’re not answering my question!” Annie exclaims, stood in the foyer of 18 Rawson, overcome with grief and anger, “where the hell is my husband!?” Aside from the woman’s yelling, the home remains quiet, littered with people stood in unspecific corners, waiting for Jade’s answer. “He and Ameil never made it back” Jade responds, her head hung out of shame, entirely unable to look Annie in the eyes, “the horde caught up to us before they could get back- we had to leave.”
With a lump in her throat, Annie’s lip quivers, her voice unable to put into words the scattered thoughts that rush through her head. Nearing tears, Annie turns away from the woman, hiding her face from the home’s inhabitants as Heather takes her place in the discourse, leaving Amy in Salem’s arms. “Ameil knows his way around the dead, there’s a chance he and Ryan hunkered down somewhere out there” Heather suggests, her eyes searching for those equally-optimistic. “We haven’t found bodies, so there’s no reason to presume they're dead” Heather explains, waiting for a voice to speak up in her defence, “I think we should group up and go out looking.” The most reluctant of the siblings, Isaac speaks up first, his voice angelically deep. “We’re not private detectives, Heather. We can’t just stop what we’re doing every time someone gets lost” the man ripostes, an answer that mildly irritates the woman. “They’re not just someones- they’re your someones” Heather argues, her arms crossing as she approaches the man, “they were lost on your trip. So, as far as I’m concerned, you’re responsible.” The next to align himself with Isaac, Oliver interjects, sat on the centre staircase just a few feet away. “The town’s incinerator just got pushed offline and we’re expecting a call from Nova Scotia by the afternoon” Oliver remarks, leaving little room for reasoning, “we’re too busy for a search party.” Feeling disregarded, Heather’s arm-cross stiffens, her feet pressing against the ground with more force. “If the town’s people were sent into an uproar, would you be too busy for that?” the woman rebuttals, watching Isaac and Oliver’s eyebrows begin to narrow, Archie’s attention caught in the near-distance whilst Jade’s exterior is unchanged. “Watch your words carefully, Heather” Oliver warns, wishing to quell the threat before it’s too late, “you’ve got a lot riding on us.” “And as far as I can tell, you’ve got a lot riding on me now too” Heather counters, approaching the still-sat man with a determined look, “what would your citizens think if they knew that their streets were about to start smelling like sewage all because their leader wanted to go out for a hunt and left two of her own behind?” Grimacing, Oliver pulls himself away from his seat, allowing Heather to get closer toward his face before Jade puts her foot down. “That’s enough- both of you” Jade remarks, leaving her perch near the kitchen’s entrance as she approaches the squabbling pair, “we’ll send out a search party. It’s the least we can do.” The tension alleviated, Heather takes the silence that follows Jade’s order as an excuse to back away, returning to Annie’s side. “Archie, Isaac- go get ready to head out” Jade commands, trusting the men can take care of the job appointed to them, “as for everyone else, go back to your activities. This meeting is dismissed.” Her priorities elsewhere, Jade retreats to the kitchen, taking a seat at the foremost table as Emilio watches on, noticing the preoccupied look in her eyes. “Something on your mind?” Emilio asks, gently tapping the kitchen’s passage borders with his knuckle. His presence coming as a surprise, Jade takes her attention away from the map she’d sprawled across the tabletop. “Why? Do you need something?” Jade replies, her face empty, awaiting further comment. “No, I just wanted to check in” Emilio responds, an answer that slightly confuses the woman, “you look... worried.” Crossing her left leg over her right, Jade’s left hand stretches out to her kneecap, resting on its bend. “I run Cumberland- I’m always worried” Jade replies, unafraid to admit the concern she carries deep within herself, “all it takes is one fuck up for everything to come crashing down. I’m trying to avoid that.” Sensing the woman’s reluctance to say more, Emilio turns away. “I’ll leave you to it” Emilio ripostes, following the same exit the rest of his group had taken. “I don’t mean to be callous” Jade suddenly calls out, trying to be appreciative of the good intentions the man entered with, “I went out for one afternoon, and not only do I lose two people, but the town’s incinerator goes down while I’m off duty. For obvious reasons, this isn’t my finest hour.” His lips pressed together, Emilio gives the woman a gentle nod before proceeding toward the exit once more. “It’s not a problem” Emilio replies, wishing not to be of further interruption. Taking her eyes back to the map, Jade listens to the front door open and shut, a few seconds allowed to pass before relief comes over her. Her right hand balling into a fist, Jade swings her hand down upon the table, a crashing thud emerging from the contact. Throwing her back into the seat, Jade stares at the kitchen window across the room, where the pond in her backyard continues to be assaulted by the droplets that descend from the heavens as the new day begins to dawn. = Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 3 onwards = “There aren’t many jobs out here looking for filler candidates” Lauren responds, watching a string of storefronts zip past the window of the public bus she and Alicia occupy. “So that’s it, huh?” Alicia queries, one foot pressed against the back of the seats ahead of her, “just wait out the outage and hope it doesn’t take long?” “I’ve got no other choice” Lauren ripostes, holding back her frustration so as not to take it out on her friend, “I just have to wait out the clock.” Defeated, Lauren sinks into her seat, staring down the length of the crowded vehicle with a frown. “How’s Grace taking all of this?” Alicia replies, directing the conversation elsewhere at the sight of Lauren’s dissatisfaction, “is she taking it well?” “Does she need to?” Lauren is quick to reply, a somewhat sarcastic tone in her voice, “Donnie’s the eighth- was it eighth?- richest person in Cumberland. Why would she- no, eighteenth richest, sorry- why would she need to worry?” Hands in her pockets, Lauren restlessly awaits the vehicle’s next stop, her window seat paying her the responsibility of manning the pull cord just above the glass divide separating her from the outside. “Because you still need to work if you’re gonna get to Nova Scotia” Alicia responds, looking into the unchanged expression on Lauren’s face, “you’re still trying to get to Nova Scotia, right?” Her blank expression not leaving, Lauren pulls her hand from the pocket and tugs the cord, preparing the pair for their departure. “I don’t know what I want at this point” Lauren replies, squeezing past Alicia as she leaves her seat, preparing to disembark. “What do you mean ‘I don’t know?’” Alicia retorts, her friend’s confession surprising her, “that’s the whole reason we came here!” Not eager to continue the conversation, Lauren remains quiet, silently waiting for the bus to reach their stop. “Hello? Can you hear me?” Alicia asks, feeling her body pull to the side as their stop appears, Lauren remaining quiet, “why are you ignoring me?” “Because I sense the judgement in your voice” Lauren quickly replies, stepping off the bus the moment the doors open. “Judg- I’m not judging you” Alicia corrects, following the woman’s lead through the quiet, suburbian streets, “I’m just surprised.” Stopping a few steps ahead of Alicia, Lauren lets other passengers step past her, carrying on with their days as Lauren takes hers to turn back to Alicia. “I made the wrong choice” Lauren admits, stepping back to the woman with a disheartened look, “I felt more complete out there with Jack than I do here alone.” Her head hung, Alicia lets Lauren continue to speak, the bus’ engine roaring as the vehicle drives past them, their conversation left to them. “For a long time, I thought I just wasn’t used to all this” Lauren concludes, her voice shaky, “but when I go to bed, I know Jack’s still out there- and I’ll never find him.” “There’s a lot more to you than Jack, Lauren” Alicia replies, attempting to continue before Lauren’s interruption halts her. “I know that, and I don’t care. Everything was simpler with him” Lauren ripostes, the lump in her throat growing the more she persists, “my entire life was a chaotic rollercoaster. School, then work, then the apocalypse, then Tori- then Jack. It’s like everything else wasn’t a problem, and all it took for me to be fine was him. I can’t shake that feeling.” Becoming aggravated, Lauren tosses her bag onto the ground and takes a seat on the curb, a few moments of sitting in silence persisting before Alicia occupies the spot beside her. “How did you do it?” Lauren inquires, turning her head to Alicia, “how did you get over Frank?” With a chuckle, Alicia’s head begins to hang, her answer taking a few seconds to conjure. “I didn’t” Alicia replies, holding back a smile as her hand slides into the pocket of her oversized jeans, a glossy photograph retrieved and tucked into Lauren’s possession. Squinting curiously, Lauren stares at the photograph, the image it depicts hidden as it lies face down on her palm. “This isn’t about to-?” Lauren begins to ask, stopping herself as her left hand points toward the photo’s back, “what you’re saying makes sense, but I don’t think I’ve fully processed it yet.” Unable to hold her smile back, Alicia nods to the woman, forced to push the loose hairs over her ear. “You’re the only one that knows so far” Alicia replies, watching the woman cautiously turn the photograph over, the wave of uncertain worry that inhabited Lauren now quashed with genuine happiness, “I didn’t want anyone knowing until I knew for sure.” Her left hand covering her widened mouth, Lauren stares at her friend with wide eyes, all her troubles vanishing for one, incredibly fulfilling moment. “You’re pregnant!?” Lauren remarks, finally speaking the quiet part aloud as Alicia’s nod serves to confirm stated suspicions, “holy shit, you’re pregnant!” Wrapping her arms around her baby-bound friend with joy over the woman’s newfound destiny, Lauren pulls Alicia close, erasing their prior conversation from her mind in an effort to disregard it entirely, still partially incapable of addressing it with the weight required. | “I thought you restricted their gas supply, how’d they manage that?” Jade inquires, sat on the rear patio as the sun emerges, the rain that had crashed upon Cumberland waiting to return another day. “It had nothing to do with gas, their supply was the same as it’s always been” a woman’s voice responds, sharing the same aggravations as Jade, “wherever they got the arms, they didn’t get them with our help, our gas, or our supply.” “I hardly see why you’d need me to fly out to Nova Scotia for this” Jade quickly responds, sunken into one of the chairs overlooking the pond, “if they have these weapons, there’s nothing coming up there will solve.” The front door to her home opening in the distance, Jade brushes her brother’s re-entry off, continuing her call with no distraction. “Because we’re landlocked here, Jade. The folks up in Manchester won’t have Portsmouth up and running for months- hell, maybe years!” the woman on the other line replies, clearly simmering with anger, “this isn’t a meeting of negotiation, this is a strategy meeting. Jade, we’re on the brink of war- and Cumberland might be ground zero.” “You’re not leaving me with a lot of wiggle room here, I’ve already got a problem with-” Jade ripostes, looking to her patio’s entrance before going silent, her wide eyes offered to the sight that stands before her, “-I have to call you back.” Met with reluctance, Jade sets her radio’s receiver down and pulls herself up, both hands raised to her home’s invader. “Let my brother go” Jade replies, looking into Jessica’s eyes as the widow holds her handgun to the back of Archie’s head, “lower the gun and let my brother go now.” Her cold face continuing to stare at Jade, Jess refuses the woman’s request, her dirt-covered shoes leaving the muddy trail of her entrance behind. “You have someone of mine” Jess responds, her baritone voice showing little empathy, the end justifying the means as far as she is concerned, “I want her back.” | Walking Rockford’s grounds in a sleeveless white shirt, Franklin’s skin glistens with sweat as he makes his way home, his shortened arm temporarily freed from its metal extension. “‘Ay, Frank” Clint exclaims, Franklin’s large frame helping him stand out in a crowd, “can I talk to you for a sec?” With no reason to refuse, Franklin steps forward, severing himself from the unending line of residents that he passes by. “What’s up?” the man asks, a bead of sweat dripping off his chin, hands placed upon his hips as Clint begins to respond. “Not much- which is kind of the point” Clint replies, glancing at every resident, guard, and high-ranking official that strolls past, “doesn’t the town seem a little normal?” “When did normal become a bad thing?” Franklin ripostes, humoured by Clint’s discovery. “I never said it was a ‘bad thing’, but it’s definitely off from what I’d thought it would be” Clint replies, his arms crossed at his chest, his back resting against a brick wall to the dirt road’s side, “Rocky’s been worried everyone would be starved into a revolution, yet- here they are- all of the troubles are done with, and no one’s acting any different.” Squinting at the busy pathway as the sun burns bright just overhead, Franklin shares Clint’s overlook of the pedestrians, admittedly finding their lackadaisical response bizarre. “It’s like nothing’s changed. It’s like today’s no different from any other” Clint clarifies, turning his face toward Franklin, the man’s curious demeanour allowing him to feel like he’d not been the only one to grow suspicious, “excitement- I’d understand, worry- I’d understand, but nothing?” His concern only growing the more he questions the crowd without an answer to support the conclusions he’s made, Franklin pats Clint on the shoulder, turning back the way he came. “Let me check in with Rocky” Franklin responds, embracing the summer heat in hopes of uncovering answers, “I’ll check back with you later.” “There’s not much unshattered trust here anymore, so keep the docks off limits” Rocky replies, stood in his quiet home, its walls dating back to the late nineteenth century. “We don’t load anything onto their boats until an agreement is reached, and that is final” Rocky persists, giving the men he’s entrusted to guard Rockford their orders as Franklin knocks at the door, “our days of being fucked over are done with.” With a gentle tug, Rocky’s door squeaks its way open, exposing the interior of his house to the elements of the blazing outdoors. “Wipe your shoes off on the rug and close the door on your way in” Rocky greets, retreating to the rest of his home as Franklin enters, following the instructions as given. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything” Franklin remarks, watching Rocky sink into the leather cushions of a recently upholstered sofa. “I’m never anything but busy, so there’s no avoiding an interruption” Rocky ripostes, extending his hand to the empty chair across the room, “is there something I can help you with?” Not wishing to press his sweaty body into the seat, Franklin rests on its edge, his hands folded as his knees part. “I wouldn’t say ‘help with’, but more like ‘makes sense of’” Franklin replies, slightly unsettled by the various deer heads mounted along the walls. “There’s too much in the world for me to explain enough of, but I’ll do my best” Rocky responds, the friendly smile he wears not as large as Franklin would assume it’d be under the circumstances provided. “Well, I guess I’m just confused. I mean, I see everyone walking on the street today, and it’s like nothing’s changed” Franklin replies, noticing the interesting nod Rocky responds with, “as if taking a cargo plane’s worth of guns and ammo changes nothing. Why is that?” Letting out a sigh, Rocky’s right arm rests against his couch’s side, his eyes finding the analog clock’s smaller hand pointing toward the number ‘two’. “It’s because they don’t know yet” Rocky ripostes, his left hand moving to his right, where the button to his plaid shirt’s sleeve pops free. “They- why don’t they know?” Franklin replies, the answer catching him by surprise as much as the ease in which it arrived with. “Because I want to err on the side of caution” Rocky responds, continuing to undo his buttons and roll his sleeves as he leaves the couch, approaching a small table that sits closeby, where he takes a pack of cigarettes into his hand. “I’m only telling you this because I’m deep in your debt. What you and your friends have done for me is more than I could ever ask for- from you or Nova Scotia” Rocky explains, now taking a matchbox into his hand, “I want you to tell me you’ll keep this quiet.” His lips pressing together, Franklin waits a few moments before giving the man a nod, “I will” the survivor responds, still sat in his seat. Satisfied with the answer he’s given, Rocky proceeds, striking the match and lifting the flame to the stick’s tobacco end. “Nova Scotia makes fucking us over a passtime” Rocky soon replies, a puff of smoke floating from his lips, “this isn’t a new thing, they’ve been doing it for years. Long enough, in fact, for other settlements to get comfortable.” Reclaiming his seat on the couch, Rocky lets an ashtray sit on his lap as the conversation continues, momentarily breaking to pull a drag from the dart. “Comfortable enough- in fact- to be rather dissatisfied in the idea of Nova Scotia having to take from them to supply for us, even if we’re only taking our fair share” Rocky continues, the stick held between his right hand’s middle and ring finger, “even if we have scheduled a meeting, I’m not so sure Nova Scotia will be too bipartisan.” His eyes trailing off, Franklin’s concern only grows, his position between Rocky and the sunlit window casting the large man’s shadow upon the floorboards. “I don’t want you to get your hopes down. I’m not saying they won’t, I’m saying I’m not sure enough to just hand them our new toys and stretch out our hands for-” Rocky pauses, another drag taken from the cig, “-for a bigger cut. It’s a lot deeper than that, and that’s how it always is when you play Nova Scotia’s game.” “And you’re not telling the residents because- because why?” Franklin asks, his original question yet to be answered. “I don’t need their hopes up any more than yours are. They’d assume the same thing you did- that we’ll all be fine when the ships come to dock” Rocky replies, tipping the dart over the lap-top bowl, its transparent bottom strewn with ashes, “high hopes lead to falls from high places. If that happens, that revolution I’ve told you about will draw near- I promise you that.” | “Is Isaac alive?” Jade inquires, the unshaken aim Jess holds her gun with proving the composure she acts with, unphased by the lustre of the sanctuary they reside in. “He’s alive, but he’ll have a headache” Jess responds, her voice kept to the baritone pitch she’d entered with, “now, I want my daughter back. I know she’s here, and I know that you know where she is. Give her back, or I’ll kill all of you where you stand.” With her hands raised in surrender, Jade chooses her words with care, her voice lowering to a calm, undisturbed tone of voice. “None of us want to die over this, and none of us have to” Jade replies, her brother’s eyes following each step she makes, “but if we’re going to have this conversation, we need to be civil about it.” The ground rules laid out, Jade keeps her right hand held upward as her left slowly reaches to her side, the gun she wears on her hip easily visible. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than you want to hurt me. We all just want to make it out of this situation alive, alright?” Jade continues, freeing her gun from its holster before laying it on the ground, her foot kicking it to the side, where it falls off the patio’s ledge and into the artificial fountain, “let’s talk about this.” Blood running from the wound on the side of his face, Archie grimaces in pain as his left eye presses shut, hoping for Jess to meet Jade’s invitation. “Let my brother get help for Isaac, you can hold me at whatever gunpoint you want, and we’ll talk” Jade pursues, quietly hoping the woman will entertain her offer, the reluctance to show emotion making the interaction’s outcome impossible to predict, “you’re here for someone, and you said I know them. I would like to help you.” “Why?” Jess finally responds, the same tone in her voice left unchanged, “you don’t know the first thing about me aside from my name. Why would you help me?” Letting out a sigh, Jade’s hopeful expression turns to disappointment, almost judging the gun woman in a way. “Because whoever you came here for is clearly important enough to warrant holding my brother at gunpoint” Jade ripostes, “and to add to that, I already tried to help you before. You chose not to cooperate.” Her hair waving with the calm breeze that begins to roll in, Jess studies Cumberland’s leader, her eyes, her posture, her responses, anything that could provide an insight into the woman’s true motives. “Please let my brother go, and we’ll talk about whatever it is you’re here for” Jade concludes, preparing for the choice she believes Jess to have already made, unable to believe anything she can say would change that decision, “I gave you that chance before, and I’m giving it to you again.” Her chin tilting up, Jess pulls her sights toward Archie, the man still giving into Jess’ ownership with faith in his sister to ease the situation. Carefully considering her choices, Jess takes three steps away from Archie, her firearm slowly turned onto Jade once pleased with the distance. “Go help your brother” Jess orders the man, his body turning back for the way he’d arrived the moment Jess grants his freedom. “Thank you” Jade replies as Jess turns back to her, the gun woman's dirt-stained grey shirt entirely opposite that of Jade’s soft, ironed black tank top. “I came here for my daughter” Jess responds, brushing off the woman’s appreciation in favour of whom she’d arrived for, “now that I’ve given you what’s yours- do the same.” | “Sometimes I wonder how most of you survived while everything was still running” Jack quips, carrying a tray with an uncooked chicken atop it, “I worked in a warehouse for minimum wage and I can cook a better chicken than your local bar and grill could. What’s your excuse?” Amused, Clint and Nessie sit beside a wooden tub, washing boards and clothes dampened with soapy water carried in their hands. “We spent our childhood living off fast food and high metabolism” Nessie responds, the barely-padded chair she sits atop squeaking each time she moves, “went straight from that to living off the land. Ovens weren’t necessary when you have a knife to gut and skin with, and a fire to cook over.” “That might be the only valid excuse- props to you” Jack replies, rubbing his hands with a wet rag just as Franklin steps through the door. “Franklin, what do you know how to cook?” Jack charmingly calls out, posing over the counter like a catalogue model, his knuckles pressed against the bottom of his chin. “Haven’t we already had this conversation?” Franklin ripostes, discarding his sweat-soaked shirt in the pile of dirty clothes the siblings sit beside. “We’ve known each other for at least a few years at this point, I’m sure we’ve repeated the same conversations multiple times” Jack replies, continuing to present his smile, “that never changes how much fun I have when you answer.” Rolling his eyes, Franklin ascends the stairs and begins to approach the bathroom, his attempt to wash the day’s dirt from his dark skin thwarted upon the sound of Clint’s voice. “How’d the talk with Rocky go!?” Clint shouts, watching Franklin peer his head through the space between the bannister and the ground-level ceiling. “It was fine. No, it went well” Franklin responds, climbing back down the stairs to briefly rejoin the group, “he, uh, he told me plenty.” The room quiet, Clint, Nessie, and Jack stare at Franklin, waiting for the man to offer more than he’d explained thus far. Aware of his inability to get away with such little offered, Franklin leans against the bannister’s base, hesitant to give into the group’s request for more. “He said he wanted to ‘err on the side of caution’” Franklin replies, obviously displeased to rekindle the earlier conversation, “he said that he wanted the supply Nova Scotia owes to the town before he’ll hand them any weapons.” “Wait, he’s sceptical?- why is he sceptical?” Jack ripostes, his hands now pressing against the edge of the counter as he leans forward, the siblings both taking a break from the laundry to partake in the conversation. “He- well- Nova Scotia’s been dividing the rest of what they owe Rockford amongst the other settlements for a while now” Franklin stutters, still trying to understand the man’s outlook, “he’s worried the settlements will force Nova Scotia to keep the status quo.” “So- so, what I’m hearing is- the plan is to tell Nova Scotia to fuck off if they don’t give him what he wants?” Nessie replies, wiping the sweat from her face with her forearm, “that hardly seems like something Nova Scotia’s gonna tolerate.” “It’s not like there’s much of a choice here. Nova Scotia’s used the excuse of ‘you don’t produce enough’ to keep shortchanging this place” Franklin responds, his free hand sliding into his back pocket, “he thinks that, even if they shortchange him again this time, they’ll have to face the music. They won’t be able to excuse it for a lack of production- they’ll have to outright exploit him with nothing to hide behind.” “Okay, that’s great for Rocky’s ego- now tell me how that helps us” Jack replies, sliding the gloves from his hands as he approaches Franklin, “we still have a trip to Nova Scotia hanging in the balance here. This little ‘stab me in my front, not my back’ routine he’s playing is gonna backfire on us.” “Yeah, no shit. Go ahead, though- tell me what I can do about it” Franklin ripostes, both hands leaving their respective posts, now held out from his sides, “he’s the law of the land around here!” Too frustrated to begin moulding strategy, Jack rolls his eyes and walks away, tending to the group’s dinner as a way of escaping the mounting anger that begins to fill him. “He’s stuck to his word this far, and he’s admittedly set us up pretty well” Clint replies, assuming the conversation’s controls, “those guns wouldn’t be his if it weren’t for you. If we sat down with him, we might be able to talk him into a better plan.” “Oh, I see” Jack scoffs from the kitchen, unable to help himself from listening in, “you wanna reason with the man planning to stick it to the apocalypse’s equivalent of a world superpower- what could go wrong!?” Bracing the cold sweat that covers his body, Franklin crosses his arms, watching Jack’s return. “Do you have a better idea?” Franklin responds, watching Jack unfasten the apron around his waist, “as far as I know, this is the only option we’ve got!” Stepping forward with his finger pointed at Franklin, Jack attempts to speak, standing like a statue in the same position as he falls silent, a sudden thought dawning. With a sigh, Jack’s hands meet his hips, his head hanging as his right foot taps the ground. “I have to confess something” Jack suddenly replies, sharing a look around the room as the home’s silent residents wait for him to continue, “we didn’t come here by accident.” Confused, the group continues to look on, yet to comprehend what Jack’s admitting to. This lack of awareness recognised, Jack’s right hand glides into his back pocket, his palm retrieving a folded, glossy paper marked with different colours of ink. Looking Franklin in the eyes, Jack extends the folded guide, “I had Salem take the passenger’s seat for a reason. She must have gotten this from the glove compartment” the man admits, letting the paper enter Franklin’s hand. “I couldn’t let Lauren get away” Jack murmurs, leaving the group to their discovery as he returns to the kitchen. Huddling together, Clint and Nessie watch Franklin unfold the paper atop the woman’s squeaky chair, what they find not taking long to be understood. “Are these the settlements!?” Clint calls out, his question unanswered as Jack continues to walk away, the trails all leading to various towns throughout the northeast, all leading to their northernmost point. “We were close enough to Norwood, Cumberland, and Norwich for me to know where they went. I didn’t want to risk getting turned away by Jade” Jack explains, shame ridden through his voice, “this was the safest option we had.” Unsure of how to respond, Franklin sets the map down and walks across the house, caught in a mix of anger and relief. “Why didn’t you tell us this sooner!?” Franklin shouts, his raised tone matched by the cook, who throws his apron to the floor. “There was no point! We got here like I’d hoped, and the only one hurt in the process was me!” Jack exclaims, the sound of his confrontational voice bringing the room to another silence. “We have people to get back to, and the way there is through Rockford” Jack concludes, his voice calmer than before, “we have to fix this, and we need to do it quickly.” His hand extended, Jack waits for Franklin to return the gesture. “You have Alicia, I have Lauren, and the siblings have each other. We either take this opportunity or we lose them for good” Jack persists, looking his tall friend in the eyes as his fingers stretch out, “take it or leave it.” Nostrils flaring, Franklin looks to the man’s hand, thinking quietly to himself as his eyes meet Jack’s, the man left waiting for his decision. == Rise ==
0 Comments
Climbing out from its hole, a rabbit emerges from the bramble, its brilliantly-white coat covered in dirt. Gazing around the grass with its bold, brown eyes, the rabbit prances away from its home, sights set on the scattered, chopped carrots in the nearby grass. As if concerned, the rabbit pans around the forest again, peering into the vast assortment of flora, and expecting to find someone lying in wait, eager to pounce on the chance to take advantage of its preoccupation.
Satisfied enough to proceed, the rabbit scurries toward the carrots, placing the sliced disk at the front of its teeth before a distant shot rings out, the bullet propelled through its tiny frame with ease from closeby. “Good rabbit” Jess mutters, climbing out from her cover directly behind the rabbit’s hole, her dinner for the evening secured with little issue. With a dull knife and limited understanding of the process, Jess spends the afternoon hours struggling to shed the rabbit of its warm coat as the hot sun only grows warmer with time. Sweat trickling from her forehead, down the side of her face, and off the end of her chin, Jess slowly makes progress, eventually sliding her ineffective blade down the rabbit’s flesh well enough to serve. Above a small fire, the rabbit begins to cook, slowly browning the longer Jess spends watching it, the thin branch it’s skewered upon manually spun by Jess’ fingers. The dry patch of dirt over her head starting to dampen with her sweat, Jess scoops her carrots into a metal can and sits down for her meal, satisfied with the colour of her dinner’s cooked flesh. Removing the rotisserie, Jess raises the meat to her teeth, suddenly stopping at the sound of distant footsteps. On alert, Jess slides beneath the mound of dirt her back presses against, staying hidden from those that may approach from behind her. Wiping the drops of grease from her face, Jess reaches to her hip, the pistol housed there now taken into her hand, prepared to for may appear from behind the tall grass. Slowing her breathing to an inaudible hush, Jess listens beyond the low winds, her campsite darkened as clouds arrive just overhead. Unable to discern what’s being said, Jess listens to the whispering of two men about fifty yards behind her, their faint voices growing closer as the seconds pass. Just as they had arrived, the men excitedly huddle toward the ground, ruffling leaves and small twigs as they settle. Pulling her legs close, Jess lays the rabbit in a bucket and prepares to take part in the waiting game, her knees pressing against her ribs as the first few raindrops begin to fall. Continuing to talk amongst themselves for another few seconds, Jess listens in until their voices finally stop, an eerie silence emerging from her blindspot. Letting go of a deep breath, Jess readies her weapon, preparing to shoot as her eyes drift forward, falling upon the whitetail deer just past her makeshift slow-roast set. Coming to her realisation, Jess covers her ears, waiting out the seconds that remain before the gunmen behind her tear a bullet through the deer’s eye. Still able to hear the gunshot rippling through the trees, Jess watches the buck collapse as she huddles back into her cover, her weapon readied again. “Come on” Jess whispers to herself, paying no attention to the incoming rainstorm as the men approach, ready to be rewarded for their kill. “When was the last time you snagged a buck?” one of the men asks, climbing over a downed tree to keep up with the other. “It’s been a minute” the other man responds, leaping over a divot in the ground in route to their prized catch, yet to realise that Jess resides within that same crater, waiting for the right moment. “Minute or no minute, Jade’s not gonna have a problem with it either way” the first man replies, the sight of his feet whilst mid-jump affording Jess her moment. “Guns down, hands up!” Jess orders, rotating her aim between the two men as they turn around, immediately giving into the instructions made. Able to look both men in the eyes, Jess holds her aim on the second man, his familiar face speaking to memories of a distant time. “Ameil?” Jess murmurs, her look of awe mirrored across the man’s face, influenced by the slim odds of their reunion. “Jessica!” Ameil responds, noticing the fire by the woman’s side, “what are you doing here?” As the rain begins to fall harder, Jess lowers her aim, letting the gun hang beside her hip, their eyes yet to pull away from each other. “I could ask you the same thing” Jess responds, pressing her teeth together out of annoyance, completely unsure of how to reply past that. = Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 3 onwards = Watching Lauren emerge from the forest beneath the early drizzle, Grace occupies the cabin’s wooden front steps with a cup of tea in her hand. “You’re late” Grace exclaims, calling out to her puzzled co-worker with a frown, Lauren’s focus placed on the dozens of electrical workers venturing throughout their incinerator’s tunnel. “What’s all this?” Lauren replies, paying no mind to Grace’s earlier claim, “what are all these people doing here?” Allowing her own statement to be forgotten to time, Grace responds with a frown, her mug lifted to her lips mid-sentence. “The incinerator’s down. Something to-” Grace answers, her throat soothed by the brief pause it takes to pull down a swig of her warm beverage, “-do with the power grid.” “Okay, well- did they tell you when it’ll start working again?” Lauren responds, answered with Grace’s casual head shake. Turning away, Lauren sets her sights on the first worker she can find, his yellow vest sticking out boldly from the green-coated landscape. “Hi, I’m Lauren” the woman introduces herself, a smile as fake as her polite appearance. “Eddy” the man replies, taking her handshake on its offer. “I’m sure you already know what I came by to ask” Lauren responds, her hand finding a home on her hips. “If it’s about when your machine will be back up, I’m not sure yet” Eddy responds, walking back to the tunnel with Lauren following closely behind, the ground beneath them moistened enough to outline the bottom of their shoes. “We installed the incinerator after the zombies showed up, and had to hook it up to the main grid manually” Eddy explains, “if I had to guess, there’s a good chance something underground went awry.” Understanding very little of the man’s response, Lauren simplifies her question, “is there a time frame we’re working with?” the woman counters, hiding the pain that her fake smile inflicts, “are we talking hours? Days?” “More like weeks” Eddy responds, watching the plastic smile drop from Lauren’s face as easily as it had appeared, “Jade’s out of commission for the day, and this isn’t a small project. If I were you, I’d plan on it being down for a few weeks.” Freed from her responsibility of being hospitable, Lauren turns away without another word, walking back to Grace with a scowl on her face. “Any progress?” the tea-drinking woman replies, immediately recognising Lauren’s disgusted look for what it is. Her walk slowing, Lauren stands in the middle of the open lot, thinking quietly to herself for a few moments before responding. “They’re waiting for Jade to answer them- they’ve got no idea yet” Lauren answers, turning back to return home the way she came. “That’s it? You’re just gonna leave?” Grace calls out, her fingers wrapped around the rim of the mug as it hangs between her spread legs. “There’s no point in sticking around!” Lauren replies, back-tracking her way toward the entrance’s path, “lock up here when they’re done!” With her arms extended, Grace watches the woman walk away, no true intention of returning. “See you tomorrow, then!” Grace exclaims, her head shaking as Lauren holds her hand up, the only genuine ‘goodbye’ she can muster. | “Why do they give you so little?” Jack inquires, sat near the front of Rocky’s boat whilst Franklin sits in the rear, guiding his vessel and the nineteen others that follow. “If you give a little, you’ll get a little” Rocky responds, sat close to the middle, barely able to hear Jack over the sound of crashing waves, “it justifies giving us so little to work with. If we can’t produce the amount of weaponry they want because they short-change us, it justifies them short-changing us.” “Doesn’t that hurt their bottom line?” Nessie interjects, sat directly opposite their recently-acquainted friend, “sure, you’ll be the one suffering. That said, they’ll be the ones with less ammunition.” With a chuckle, Rocky shakes his head as his eyes drift toward the seas ahead, his face splashed with droplets. “There are fewer dead to kill and fewer living to fight” Rocky replies, “whatever the other camps make is more important in the long run than my bullets.” “And they don’t fear other settlements revolting?” Franklin interjects, one hand steering the vessel toward a distant island off Boston’s coastline. “Are you nuts? They fuck us over so much because it doesn’t make a difference to them” Rocky responds, never unamused by his guest’s cluelessness, “we get the scraps because the other settlements thrive. What’s one unhappy settlement if you’ve got dozens of others that love rolling in shit like pigs? I’ll tell you- they’re fucked.” “It still doesn’t add up. There’s nothing Rockford does that other settlements don’t already have their hand in” Clint explains, his curiosity still looming, “why keep you around if they’d be fine with cutting you out entirely?” With a shrug, Rocky shakes his head, again looking toward the distant island reserve. “It’s pointless questioning why Nova Scotia does what it chooses to” Rocky replies, letting out a defeated sigh, “it doesn’t make us any less screwed.” “No, but it could work in your favour” Clint quickly argues, adamant in his claim, “whatever it is that makes Rockford necessary for Nova Scotia- if you can figure out what that is, you can make a deal with them.” Hands wrapped around the back of his head, Jack takes Clint’s claim to heart, thinking the man’s statement over before concluding his own. “The ports” Jack mutters aloud, taking Rocky’s eyes toward him, “it’s the same reason they set up compounds at the start. For easy transport.” “They’ve got other ports along the coastline, Pinky” Rocky responds, quick to dismiss the claim. “Yeah, and they had other compounds too. One in Concord to make travel from Nova Scotia to New York easier. Or New York itself, so they could get between Concord and Delaware easier” Jack replies, finding the pattern written in plain sight, “They need Rockford because it keeps them from needing to travel inland to deliver shipments.” “You’re wasting your breath, kid- negotiations aren’t on the table” Rocky responds, quick to continue his dismissive reaction, “if Nova Scotia smells their strength starting to wane, they won’t hesitate to remind you why they’re the central power.” His response catching the eye of those in the boat with him, Rocky senses the need to explain himself, doing so before the opportunity can be given to him. “We tried to produce oil ourselves to up the flow of goods we were making, and I told you Nova Scotia put a stop to that” Rocky recalls, his eyes dropping as the mood begins to fall, “they cut off our supplies, took half of our personal weaponry and sixty percent of our food. They told us to work or starve, and we haven’t stopped since- all because one of our packing stations got drowned out by a flood. We got behind schedule one time two years ago, and we’re still paying for it.” The information they’re privy to beginning to unsettle them, Franklin and Jack look toward each other in silence, passing glances at Clint and Nessie to suggest a shared feeling of dread. “If Pinky hadn’t gnawed off his pinky like that, we would have shot you where you stood- we couldn’t afford people knowing where Rockford was” Rocky explains, not trying to hide his prior motivations, “but if the four of you can put this nightmare behind us, I will forever be in your debt.” “We only want a ride to Nova Scotia” Jack replies, quick to voice the trade off, one that Rocky takes kindly to. “And if this place is stocked with supplies like you say it is, you’ll have it” Rocky responds, extending his right hand out to Jack, this time neither hand being bloodied by self-inflicted wounds, “I’m a man of my word when the people are right.” Looking into Rocky’s eyes, Jack sees a genuine hope he hadn’t had upon their first encounter, a response that eases him into accepting the man’s offer. With the meeting of their hands, Rocky and Jack feel a bond in appreciation for the other’s past, as if their shared hope weren’t possible without the chances taken by the other. | “Is the rain a big deal?” Emilio inquires, more cautious in his step as he follows closely behind Jade, staring at every inch of ground they have yet to cover. “The small critters will run for cover, but we’re not hunting them” Jade replies, her rifle worn on a strap that rests around her neck, hands pressing against the same rocks she climbs over to venture further out. As the minutes pass, the rain begins to fall harder, crashing down with force. “Does it ever get tiring?” Emilio inquires, his hands pressing against the wet assortment of rocks ahead, “being the leader of a ton of people, I mean. Does it ever get tiring?” Her lips pressed together, Jade shakes her head, aware of her answer before any depth is needed for it. “I think I’ve done it long enough to the point where all the exhaustion is gone” Jade responds, her lips coated in a shade of black lipstick, “it’s just second nature now.” Nodding along to the answer, Emilio continues forward, following the woman to a clearing in the trees, their eyes finding the large body of water that lies ahead, its surface beaten by the droplets. “How about you?” Jade inquires, the question confusing the man that follows her lead, “did it ever get tiring being your last group’s leader?” With a sigh, Emilio’s eyes begin to roll, his annoyance sparked with the question’s verbalisation. “How many times do I have to repeat myself?” Emilio responds, the only hint of emotion in his voice being that of the exhaustion he holds for having to answer, “I wasn’t the leader.” With a chuckle, Jade tries her best to hide the amusement she gets from the man’s answer, her efforts doing nothing to keep Emilio from overhearing the humour she takes from it. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve convinced yourself that you weren’t, but you were” Jade replies, periodically peering at the man from over her shoulder, “and that’s not a bad thing. If I’m being honest, I don’t know why you think it is.” Rolling his eyes, Emilio continues to follow along, feeling his boots begin to sink into soft dirt, the banks of the woodland’s hidden pond resting at the tip of their shoes. “It’s not like you were the leader against everyone else’s will. From what I could tell, they were all in favour of you” Jade continues, sensing the man’s reluctance to respond now that he stands beside her, “it’s not like it’d be infringing on your democratic code.” Gritting his teeth, Emilio takes his view toward the distance, watching the storm clouds reflect off the natural waters as he ponders Jade’s point. “If you’d have met the people I’ve come across with that title, you’d understand my hesitation” Emilio responds, an answer Jade laughs off. “Who are we talking about? Tony? Dawson? Charlotte?” the woman replies, recalling the group’s vivid detail of their administrations, “or are we talking about John?” Feeling himself scurrying in circles, Emilio turns away, preparing to return to the path he and Jade had travelled to reach their reflective destination. “Running away from the truth?” Jade calls back, watching the man cease his retreat, looking back at her with an unpleasant look, “or are you just walking away from the past?” “I’m walking away from the conversation” Emilio quickly responds, watching the smile stretch across Jade’s face, her amusement knowing no boundaries. “No, you’re not” Jade replies, tucking her fingers into the denim pockets at her sides as the rain begins to pour worse, “you’re just walking away period.” His face coated with drops of water, Emilio stares into Jade’s eyes for a few seconds, keeping his silent and unresponsive exterior worn like a mask. “Have you ever stopped to think about how you got here? Maybe think about the things you said to people on the way?” Jade persists, watching the man slowly return to her, bracing against the wet conditions, “maybe think about the things you did to people on the way?” “What are you getting at?” Emilio cuts back, eager to hear the woman’s declaration from her own lips, not pleased with the game being played. Her tongue pressing against the corner of her lip, Jade hangs her head for a moment, thinking to herself as Emilio nears, his eyes staring a hole through her chest. “You hate the idea of having to be a leader, and it’s clear that your first-hand accounts through the years have made that true” Jade responds, “could some of that be John’s doing?” Thunder beginning to roar at the mention of John’s name, Emilio takes a step back, forcing himself to create distance between the pair. “I’ve said it before- we had our reasons” Emilio replies, his defensive response guiding Jade toward his most vulnerable thoughts. “And you can’t see for a moment why those reasons could have been misguided?- or even wrong?” Jade questions, the silence she’s initially met with only continuing. “Think about what you’ve done since this started. All the lives you’ve had to take to get this far” Jade explains, closing in on the man’s treasured beliefs, “you sent a plane crashing into a town of thousands, you led a misguided revolution, destroyed an entire democracy! Where does it end!?” “I didn’t do those things- John did” Emilio replies, unknowingly biting into the same hook Jade cast out to catch him with. “And you followed John. Everything he did was something you condoned by following his lead” Jade responds, stepping forward to voluntarily close the distance Emilio had originally created. “We had-!” Emilio quickly interrupts, only for he, himself, to be interrupted by the same woman. “-reasons, yeah- I’ve heard that once or twice” Jade interjects, leaving the man no room to retreat as she continues to approach, “from what I can gather, those reasons were wrong.” Confronted, Emilio pulls his face away, watching the sky’s flashing lights bounce off the foggy waters. “Look at me. I’ve been in charge of Cumberland since day one and we had no vote!” Jade exclaims, getting right back in Emilio’s face, “I’m the furthest thing from an elected official.” “You’re different” Emilio retorts, feeling the truth’s he’s curated begin to crumble at his feet, impossibly weak beneath the woman’s persistence. “Why am I different? Because my city hasn’t been lit on fire yet? Because I’m not executing people in the street?” Jade asks, her own conclusion soon dawning near, a look of realisation finding her eyes, “or is it because I’m not morally conflicted?” “What is that supposed to mean?” Emilio retorts, taking the jab at his expense for what it is, the thunder beginning to roar through the air as the woman replies. “It’s been nearly five years since the world ended. Have you ever taken a second to reflect on- fuck, anything? Jade inquires, taking Emilio by the bottom of the chin, his face guided toward her own, “have you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe- you’re the bad guy?” Given no chance to answer, Jade and Emilio’s confrontation is put to a halt by the cruel gods above, the lightning bolt that crashes upon the water embracing them with a gust of heat. Their eyes taking toward the sound of the eruption-like crash, Jade and Emilio stare out at the water, the sights that emerge from behind the greenery across the shallow pond redirecting their attention. “We need to get back to the truck” Jade remarks, watching the undead clump together as they approach the pond, taking attention from the people on the other side as their numbers continue to rise. “Is it a horde?” Emilio inquires, answered with little more than Jade’s hand wrapping around the collar of his shirt. “Let’s not stick around to find out” Jade shouts back, pulling the man in her direction as they retreat, the dead only continuing to grow. | “I’m home!” Grace shouts out, her voice bouncing off the walls of their large, spacious entrance foyer. Her bag being left by the side of the door as she shuts it, Grace glances back toward the spacious interior, waiting for a response that never arrives. “Donnie!?” Grace exclaims, again standing by for a response from the second level. Only met with further silence, Grace proceeds into the kitchen, her shoes being slid from her rough-skinned heels and left at the entrance. Pulling open the refrigerator, Grace wraps her hands around the first glass pitcher she sees. Pouring herself a tall glass of pomegranate juice, Grace rests the pitcher back in the machine and closes the door, her feet carrying her to the kitchen’s island, where she occupies one of many seats. Winding down for the evening, Grace gazes around the kitchen for a few minutes before the sound of a wooden pole toppling over rings throughout the home from the upper level. Startled by how close the noise seems, Grace peers back the way she came, nothing left in the foyer or walkway to suggest anyone would be present. “Hello!?” Grace inquires, waiting for a response that, again, never replies. Left with no other option, Grace grabs her drink and proceeds toward the stairwell, its sloped, marble design leading her from ground level to the floor above. “Donnie!?” Grace calls out again, no longer waiting for a response, but hoping for one, “are you home!?” As unresponsive as it were when she had arrived, the home remains quiet, only the sound of heavy rainfall from beyond the windows and doors to answer her, the sunlight blocked out by dark, ominous rain clouds. Cascaded in a shadowy grey, Grace watches the walls begin to talk, every other step allowing her to see beyond corners and into long stretches of darkness, the shadows that appear upon the white-coloured aisles giving her a clue into what lies ahead. “I’ve had a bad enough day as it is, don’t make it worse” Grace worriedly shouts, again given nothing in response, not even the outline of a figure to coax her into untravelled, hardwood-floored descents into uncertainty. “Seriously, Donnie- this isn’t funny” Grace exclaims, her left hand trembling enough for the juice in her cup to nearly slip over the edge, offering the opportunity to slide down the glass’ side and to the floor. “You got out of work two hours ago, I know you’re home” Grace warns, convincing herself of fables she could only wish were as real as they’d been made out to believe in times of strife, “if you’re in here, I’m going to hurt you!” Her heart beginning to race, Grace glances down the hall where their shared bedroom rests, its entire length hidden behind a sea of nothingness. Too scared to look away, Grace presses her shaky right hand against the wall, her palm fumbling around in search of the lightswitch she knows to be near. Grazing it with her fingers, Grace presses her hand into the switch, horrified by the uncertainty of what lies in the dark ahead, but somehow more afraid of what the darkness is bound to reveal. Forcing herself to throw her hand upward, Grace cloaks the hall in fluorescent light, what lies beyond surprising her in the best way. With relief, Grace calms her unsteady breaths, feeling her heart begin to beat slower as her mind regains control of her motor functions. Laid out on the ground, the handle of a broom rests against the floor, the closet door from which it fell knocked open amidst its descent. Laying her cup on the floor, Grace stumbles forward, still reeling from the suspense she’d been overcome by. Without issue, Grace lifts the pole and places it back into the bin it had fallen from, now able to close the door with a smile on her face. Feeling the locks set into place, the worry Grace had felt linger in her stomach before returning, the closing door blowing a small gust of wind back at her face. As her loose hairs settle, Grace stares at the door’s handle, unsure of why she’d become so worried. Timidly retreating to what caused the feeling, Grace opens the door again, the handle pushed down a few inches before guiding the door closed again, letting the handle rest in its normal position. Still uncertain, Grace repeats the action a few more times before putting her worries aside, allowing them to fester as she begins toward her bedroom. Empty handed, Grace flicks the lightswitch and closes her door, attempting to retreat to bed before the realisation suddenly dawns upon her. As if chased by a ghost, Grace throws her bedroom door open and dashes through the hall, kicking her glass of juice over as she scrambles toward the front exit. Pushing her feet into the first pair of shoes she can find, Grace dashes through the front door and hurries off into the distance, her spilled juice beginning to trickle down the stairs. Racing through the forest, Grace returns to her workplace, the cabin locked and secured whilst the accompanying tunnel remains open, welcoming whatever may come upon it to a dark, miserable journey. Running through thick clumps of mud, Grace pries the incinerator’s tunnel doors from their restraints and seals the cavernous interior off from the world, the worried hole burning in her stomach being filled as she locks the gates up and prepares for her return home. | “What you’re saying doesn’t make sense” Jess responds, sat across the small campsite from her unarmed contemporaries, their rifles lying beside her hip. “You’ve said that three times now, and you’re no more clear than you were the first” Ameil retorts, sat on a rock just ahead of the woman, his hair drenched in rainwater, “what doesn’t make sense?” “Why they’d consider you a ‘family of three’ and huddle you into an apartment” Jess replies, both hands pressed together beneath her chin, “if they’d put Emilio and the rest in a townhouse, it’d make sense to give you a single-family house. It doesn’t add up.” “Well- it’s not like we plan on being there long-term” Ameil responds, Jess’ eyes pulling toward him at the slightest hint that she could be right. “When Cumberland families are pregnant, or have a kid under sixteen, they’re given an automatic ticket to the next Nova Scotia group” Ameil confesses, watching Jess’ eyes light up with a festering anger. “You were gonna take Amy to Nova Scotia?” Jess replies, her head pulling away from the coupled hands at her chin. “You were gonna take my kid to Nova Scotia!?” Jess repeats, her voice beginning to raise to a shout, “you were gonna use my kid to get yourselves to Nova Scotia!?” His hands held out, Ameil watches Jess leave her seat, pleading a refusal to fight as she rushes at the chance to approach the man. “It wasn’t for us!” Ameil shouts, continuing to back away as Jess progresses, closing the small amount of space between them, “John wanted us to!” Her pace stopping, Jess stares into Ameil’s eyes, the anger she feels only resting at the brink of the pot it simmers within. “That was the plan you’d been preaching since before we met- to find somewhere safe to settle into!” Ameil explains, desperately trying to defend himself, “we thought the two of you were dead, so we were trying to get Amy there with us- like you’d wanted!” Able to understand the reasonable explanation, Jess struggles to settle down, gradually alleviating her anger through sheer will. “We truly thought you were all dead. If we knew you were alive, we would’ve come running once we saw the explosion” Ameil explains, watching the woman’s rage subside, “it’s not for us, I swear.” Slowly walking backward, Jess’ curiosities only continue to build, the distant sound of thunder ripping through the skies serving as a backdrop to their conversation. “I want to see my daughter” Jess remarks, slicing a piece of the cooked rabbit’s flesh off with a greasy switchblade, the water that coats it not concerning her. “Yeah- I’ll do my best” Ameil responds, again earning Jess’ disapproving side-eye. “You’ll do your best?” Jess replies, almost mocking the man’s response in a way, “what the fuck does that mean?” Cut off from speaking by the persistent sights of lightning flashes through the sky, Ameil waits for a moment, allowing the thunder to roar before answering. “I don’t know if Cumberland will allow it” Ameil responds, speaking through a disappointed muzzle, “I’m not sure how that process works.” “You wont get her back” Ryan replies, chiming into the conversation unrequested, an audible dislike for Jess contained within his voice, “they won’t give her to a single mom.” The man’s comments taking her ear, Jess swallows the cooked flesh she’d ripped apart with her teeth before responding to the third, mostly unfamiliar, man. “I’m Amy’s mother. They’ll either give her back to me, or I’ll burn the town down trying to take her” Jess responds, pointing the tip of her knife in the man’s direction. “Do you think threats are gonna make them change their minds?” Ryan counters, failing to see the reason within Jess’ thoughts, “if you were in their shoes, where would you leave a kid? In the hands of a single parent, or in a house with a mom and dad?” “I’d give the kid back to their birth parents, that’s what I would do” Jess replies, slicing off another piece of her meal. “What if their parents were neglectful?” Ryan suddenly retorts, the answer he asks from the woman going unreturned, only a curious look given back to him. “What does that have to do with this?” Jess responds, noticing the jab subtly taken at her. “Ryan, stop t-” Ameil interjects, both Jess and Ryan’s hand held toward him, both parties wishing for his silence. “I want to hear what the man has to say” Jess replies to Ameil, her focus given back to the man at the far side of the camp, tossing her skewed rabbit aside as she leaves her seat, approaching Ryan with her knife brandished, “what are you implying, Ryan?” Aware of the threat, Ryan leaves his seat and begins to back away, retreating one step for every foot Jess advances. “I said what I said, and I won’t say it twice” Ryan responds, visibly shaken by Jess, who brushes off Ameil’s persistent concerns as the third man backs away. “Don’t interrupt me, Ameil. It won’t end well” Jess explains, continuing to place her attention on Ryan, his active dissertation playing into her hand, “what’s wrong, Ryan? Won’t open your mouth now that it’s not convenient?” Adamant, Ryan continues to back away, his hands held at his chest in a show of surrender. “I’m not going to play this game, ma’am” Ryan replies, watching Ameil approach slowly from behind, making sure the conversation doesn’t end with blood being shed, “I said what I said, and I’d- Aaahhh!” His scream measuring close to the level that curdles blood, Ryan collapses onto his back at the stinging sensation around his ankle, which wears the sharp teeth of a bear trap directly through his shin. “What the hell did you do!?” Ameil exclaims, bumping into Jess with his shoulder as he races up to Ryan’s side, only able to work off of what he sees. “He stepped into a bear trap, I didn’t do anything” Jess responds, lifting both hands into the air. Tending to the wound, Ameil hears three distant gunshots ring through the air, his eyes widening as he looks out at Jess. “We need to go now!” Ameil shouts, reaching into the trap’s claws in an effort to pry its jaws apart. “Jess, I need your help!” Ameil exclaims, looking back to the woman with distressed eyes, her posture remaining unchanged from what it was before. “Why are you standing there!? Help me!” Ameil exclaims, again trying to pull the jaws apart to no use, the few inches of separation nowhere near the leverage required for an escape. “Jess, get the fuck over here!” Ameil exclaims, again finding the woman where she last was, standing at the campsite with the knife by her side, unwilling to intervene. “He’s screwed either way” Jess replies calmly, unphased by Ryan’s torturous screams, her finger aimed in the distance. “Aarrgghh!” a horde of roaming corpses groans in the near distance, their sights set solely upon the distressed men. “Oh god, Ameil! Hurry up!” Ryan shouts, unable to feel anything other than the soaring pain in his leg, its sensation making silence impossible. Attempting to pry the teeth off Ryan’s leg once more, Ameil’s third failure spells disaster ahead, time running too low for hope to prevail. As the dead near closer, Ameil is taken by surprise at the size of the impending horde, the three-bullet signal already having called for him. “I’m sorry, Ryan” Ameil murmurs, reluctantly pulling away from the man with a grimace on his face, any extra minute spent trying to win an already-lost fight serving as a threat to his own survival. “Ameil, please! Please, help me!” Ryan exclaims, digging his fingers into the mud as he tries to crawl away, aware of the writing on the wall. “PLEASE!” Ryan screams, reaching his hand out for Ameil as the dead finally close in, his friend’s back begrudgingly turned toward him. “Ameil!” Ryan screams once more, feeling the teeth sink into his calf as others begin to gnaw at his back, the rest digging into whatever they can reach. Listening to the guttural screams fade away, Ameil looks on in disbelief, hearing the man’s final gasps be taken, his own name the final thing spoken off the man’s tongue. Backing away, Ameil is helpless to do anything other than watch, his head shaking as the noises begin to decrease, soon fading beneath the starved groans of the dead. Only a few steps back, Jess peers at her hand, a sudden thought wrapping around her mind and pressing down, guiding her forward with a scowl. Storming forward, Jess presses her left hand upon Ameil’s shoulder whilst her right swings forward, plunging the blade into the man’s back with minimal effort. His shocked groans turned into a pain-ridden shriek, the sensation of the dagger being ripped from his lower back almost worse than the pain of it entering. Unable to process what’s happened, Ameil’s weak knees give out as his body spins around, the sight of Jess standing over him speaking all that he needs to know. “I’m sorry- I need to get Amy back” Jess explains, her blood-covered knife readied for a second shot, “I can’t have you ruining that for me.” Yearning to finish what she’d started, Jess buries her knife into Ameil for a second time, this thrust piercing his jugular with lethal force. Regurgitating his own blood, Ameil collapses face-down in the mud, slowly left to bleed out in the rain as the dead approach, kneeling before the man and consuming what’s been left for them. “It had to be done” Jess whimpers, wiping the snot from her nose as she backs away, the knife in her hand tossed into the vast forest. “It had to be done” Jess repeats, turning away from the dead and beginning her sprint toward safety, unable to focus on anything more than convincing herself that she’d done what was necessary, “it had to be done.” Creating puddles with every step she takes, Jess sprints through the woodlands, her eyes set on the clearing in the trees as she leaves the scene of the crime, completely ignoring the act she’d just committed. == Rise == One of many, a ragged corpse stumbles toward the sound of struggle, taking whatever delight it can from the presence of its prey, fending off the likes of its kind. Cutting off one side of a reasonably new bridge as others approach from the opposite end, the zombie drags itself closer to the sound of desperation, hoping to get lucky and drag its victim down unsuspectingly.
His decay withering him down to loose skin, withered muscle and fragile bones, the corpse draws near, reaching out for its meal as its opportunity arises. As quickly as it had arrived, the corpse is discarded of, the crown of its skull caved in by the claw of a hammer, whose handle rests within a familiar grasp. “Keep moving, Clint!” Jack shouts, watching the once religiously-pure man rip his weapon from the undead carcasses skull and advance forward. “We can’t keep moving with them like this!” Franklin shouts, watching the number of the dead increase as his bayonet-tipped cap swings in the direction of rotten stench. “What do you suggest we do!?” Nessie shouts, kicking corpses aside as she takes on one at a time, her left hand grabbing their throat as her right brings a mallet over their heads. “Find some fucking cover!” Franklin shouts back, forced to push back the undead onslaught as they begin to pile up. The only man spared from fighting for the moment, Jack glances toward the bridge’s side, the coastline itself littered with trees he can barely see over the tops of. “There’s a few houses on the shoreline!” Jack shouts, jabbing his phillips-head screwdriver at anything that walks, “if we can reach the end, we should be able to slide down to them!” “I’ll settle for whatever works!” Clint exclaims, nearly splitting a corpse’s skull in two. “Get to the fucking shoreline then!” Franklin shouts, satisfied with the plan enough to start throwing his weight against the scrawny undead, leaving corpses to knock each other over as if they were bowling pins. Divided by a few feet, the group continues to push toward the front of the bridge, leaving whatever threat they’ve yet to dispose of behind in hopes of out-pacing them. In the very back of the group, Jack continues to wail on the dead, spacing his breaths to avoid getting winded. “I think I see a road up ahead!” Jack calls out, beginning to lag behind the others as their discards climb back up, beginning to turn their sights toward him, as if they could smell the sweat dripping off of his face, “if we can take it east, we’ll-!” Dropping another corpse mid-sentence, Jack pulls his hand back to free the screwdriver from its resting place, only to find his grip to have been relinquished, the perspiration-covered handle remaining in the dead’s skull as it falls beneath the next wave of corpses. “Fuck!” Jack shouts, watching multiple pairs of feet stumble over the body his weapon is buried in, separating him from his trusted defence permanently. “What’s going on back there!?” Nessie shouts, watching her brother begin to crawl through choked gravel and dirt on his way to the street below. “I lost my weapon!” Jack shouts, forced to pull away from the hornet-like swarm around him whilst kicking aside the dead in brief moments of self-preservation. “I’m coming, Jack!” Franklin shouts, ripping at the collars of a few weather-damaged shirts before his friend’s order calls him off. “Don’t! Just get to the houses!” Jack shouts, his back now pressing against the colour-faded green, metal fence. “I’ll find my way down!” Jack shouts again, this time aided in his declaration by Nessie, who hurries back to lead Franklin away by the hand, trusting Jack to handle himself. His lower body’s strength as strong as his pursuers are weak, Jack creates enough momentary separation to conjure a plan, seeing little option ahead that doesn’t result in his death. As Jack wraps his hands around the metal gate for leverage, a thought suddenly dawns upon him, leading the man to take a momentary glance at the waters below with a smirk. Taking advantage of the space he’s created, Jack turns his back to the dead and propels himself over the metal gate, lowering himself onto the ledge with caution, his fingers wrapped around the solid bars dividing him from the dead. Pulling back, Jack hangs himself over a steep drop into the water below as the dead advance, reaching their arms through the bars in hopes of getting within reach. “I hate how fucking ironic this is” Jack murmurs beneath his breath, glancing to his left as Nessie and Franklin descend toward the street below. “Ah, fuck!” Jack suddenly shouts, pulling his left hand away from the bars at the sensation of a stinging pain, his pinky finger curiously bloodied. Shaking his hand, Jack comes upon a quiet realisation, only needing a moment in thought to wear himself into horror. Without giving his actions additional thought, Jack lets his second hand pull away from the metal bars, his weight pushing backwards as he does so, allowing him to plummet into the rough waters below. Submerged, Jack feels the tide pull him away from his destination, unable to fight the stinging sensation in his back to begin pulling toward the surface. With effort and resilience, the man breaks through the surface, gasping for air as he paddles toward the shore, where Clint already awaits his return. Rushing into knee-deep waters, Franklin and Nessie hurry to meet Jack in the water, pulling him to land once in reach. “That was too fucking close!” Franklin shouts, letting the man’s shoulders fall onto the rocky, grass-covered back lawn of their riverside meeting point. “How many more of those encounters are we gonna have before someone gets hurt!?” Franklin angrily questions, clearly agitated by the struggle presented. “None” Jack suddenly interjects, gladly playing the opposition to Franklin’s concern. “Why is that!?” Franklin shouts, throwing his metal cap in the grass out of frustration, “have we finally learned our lesson!?” Still struggling to catch his breath, Jack holds his left hand toward the group, the water having washed the blood away to leave only the wound itself. “No” Jack replies, unable to speak without audible disappointment, “I’m bit.” Having seeked comfort in the release of his anger, Franklin is pulled back to earth by Jack’s statement, unsure of how to respond whilst Nessie gives into denial. “No- no you’re not” Nessie replies, clearly rattled by the revelation as she hurries to the man’s side, taking his hand to inspect it herself. “Yeah, Nessie- I am” Jack responds, pulling his hand from her reach and shaking it to relieve the pain, “a dementia-ridden Sherlock Holmes could figure that out.” “Yikes!” a distant, yet guttural voice exclaims, armed with an assault rifle as he approaches the group, flanked by dozens of men armed with the same, heavy-duty equipment. “When you find an infected washed up on the beach, the first thing you do is-” the man exclaims, waiting for his brigade to respond. “Eradicate the threat, sir!” the men all shout in unison, no one soul offbeat from the rest, not one existence daring to stand out from the cargo jacket, white t-shirt wearing ‘sir’. “We don’t want-” Clint begins to explain, his words dying off as quickly as he is interrupted. “You don’t want any trouble, I’ve heard all of that before” the grey-haired, clean-shaven, mid-50’s appearing man replies, his voice coming across with the tone of rolling molasses, “I don’t care, and I’m not gonna.” “We’re not a threat to you” Nessie replies sharply, protective of the people around her. “Is that supposed to change anything?” the man inquires, keeping his rifle aimed to the side, “if you’re a threat to me, I’d want you gone. If you weren’t a threat to me, what use are you without a pair of balls to stand your ground? Hell, one of y’all is already bit! It’s a lose-lose for you, darling.” “We don’t have to be a threat to you in order to be a threat in general” Jack replies, angrily pushing himself off the ground as the older man begins to laugh. “You’ll be dead in days, I know you’re a threat in general” the older man replies, readying his weapon to fire, “that’s why I have you and your friends down.” Throwing herself in front of Jack, Nessie shields her friend from the man’s line of fire, not caring for the result of her choice. “Little lady, you’d be better off steppin’ aside” the man warns, preparing his sights for a shot. “He doesn’t want bravery, Nes’” Jack groans, gently guiding Nessie aside, “he wants something more than that.” Lowering his weapon, the old man indulges Jack’s claim, intrigued by what the survivor is getting at. “Kid, I don’t know what your game is, but it’s not working” the militia commander replies, “bravery won’t keep you weak folk from meeting your maker.” “How about a tip, then? You know, for future use?” Jack queries, again prompting the older man to lower the gun from his sights. With a sigh, the man waits for Jack to offer his peace, providing another warning as he closes in. “My men will litter you and your friends with bullets if you don’t mind your distance, son” the greyed man explains, eagerly waiting for Jack’s advancement to cease. “Think of a bite like a problem” Jack explains, displaying his infected finger to the gunman, “if you get rid of it before it’s too late, you’ll cut out the problem before it ends you.” With a chuckle, the man clicks his tongue as he nods. “I already knew that, son” the old traveller replies, watching Jack’s smile creep in. “That’s good” Jack retorts, using his adrenaline to fuel his next move, “how’s this for weak folk?” Without warning, Jack leads his pinky finger between his teeth, feeling the tip of his digit press against the back of his tongue as his molars hover below the knuckle. Too committed to turn back, Jack sinks his back teeth through the skin, prying the pinky from his hand as the old man watches in surprise, listening to the audible crunch persist until there’s nothing left for Jack’s teeth to dig through, his hand shaking as it lowers from his jaw with one less count. Mouth slightly ajar, the old man watches a visibly shocked Jack close the distance that remains between them. With a blank expression, Jack spits the severed digit into the man’s face with no remorse, allowing a few seconds to pass before extending his bloodied hand toward his guest’s arm. “Jack O’Rourke” the man grunts, refusing to show weakness in his greeting, the hardiness shown earning Jack the man’s respect. “Rocky” the gunman replies, appreciatively refusing the man’s handshake whilst he remains visibly taken aback from the sight witnessed. = Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 3 onwards = “So, it was never part of your plan?” Lauren stumbles, stood across the room from Alicia and Salem with her arms crossed. “No! We had no idea!” Ameil replies, his body cascaded by the sunrise as it peers between the window’s individual shutters, “he told us to go, and that’s what we did.” “And you just assumed we were dead when the fireball went up?” Alicia asks, earning the response she anticipated. “What else were we supposed to think of it?” Heather counters, listening to footsteps patter along the floor overhead, “we never expected to see any of you again- I’ll be right back” she concludes, walking off to attend to Amy. “How’d you get here?” Angela questions, sat on a loveseat a few feet to the right of Lauren. “They brought us here” Ameil replies, glancing at each of his neighbours as he responds, his sentences mostly finishing with his eyes panning toward Emilio, “we were walking over a little stream when their cars found us. We weren’t in any position to fight, so we just hoped they’d see Amy and have some humanity left in them. Luckily for us, they did.” “And you just believed them when they said- what?” Salem inquires, her elbow pressing into the arm rest as she holds her head up. “They said who they were. They were from a town called ‘Cumberland’, they were patrolling a mile out from their border, and they wanted to bring us in for questioning” Ameil answers, “we were walking around the place because some street lights outside the walls were on. We knew there was power somewhere, so we followed the lights to it.” “The lights must be connected to the town’s power grid” Alicia interjects, willing to defend Ameil’s account, “it makes sense.” Still sceptical, Lauren pulls away from the wall, arms still crossed. “Why didn’t they question you outside?” Lauren replies, peering toward the man through squinted eyes as their landline begins to ring, “what made you three so special to them?” “Maybe the kid by their side had something to do with it” Alicia responds, engaging with the opposing side of Lauren’s question whilst Salem answers the phone. “Will you please stop answering for the man?” Lauren inquires, beginning to turn her annoyance toward the dark-haired couch dweller. “I’m not answering for the man, I’m making informed observations” Alicia retorts, matching Lauren’s increasingly-irritated tone of voice. “I’d like you to stop doing that then” Lauren responds, watching Alicia prepare to retort before Salem’s own frustration overwhelms them. “FUCK!” Salem exclaims, slamming the phone back on the receiver before storming out of the kitchen. “Where are you going!?” Emilio calls out, watching the irate woman march toward the front door. “I’m gonna kill Jade- bye” Salem replies, slamming the door shut as quickly as she’d ripped it open. Speechless, the group looks around the room for a moment, quietly wondering whether the woman is serious or not. “If Salem wants to kill Jade, none of us are gonna be able to stop her” Angela cuts in, aware of where the conversation had paused, “let’s get back to the ‘why are you in Cumberland’ story, please?” “There’s no story left to tell, we’ll just keep repeating ourselves” Heather replies, following Amy into the living space, “they found us, we let them question us, they gave us a house. That’s it, that’s the story.” “And they didn’t try to split you up?” Lauren asks, maintaining her reluctance for as long as it holds water. “They said they don’t split up families” Amy answers, her ability to do so still odd in the eyes of her peers, “and when the next bus comes, we get to go to Nova Scotland.” Getting on her knee, Heather places her hand against Amy’s head, whispering into her ear. “Scotia” Amy corrects, alleviating much of the worrisome suspense, “I meant Nova Scotia.” Leaving her seat, Alicia silently walks deeper into the home, leaving the conversation to those that remain a part of it. Allerted to the sound of knocking at their door, Emilio departs the conversation next, finding Ryan’s approachable look on the other side. “Hey, neighbour” Ryan greets, waving to the homeowner as his welcoming expression turns into a playfully concerned look, “should I be worried about the woman that just stormed out of here with a scowl?” “That’s Salem, and we’re not quite sure yet” Emilio replies, stepping aside to make room for the man’s entry, “come on in.” Accepting the offer, Ryan steps through the front door, immediately finding Ameil, Heather and Amy upon entering. “Uncle Ryan!” Amy warmly exclaims, holding her fist out. “Hey there, Amy-sphere!” Ryan greets, pressing his knuckles against those of the much smaller girl’s. “Can Ameil take me with you guys on your next patrol?” Amy excitedly asks, a question that prompts Ameil to stare at Ryan with a dismissive face, swinging his fingertips at the man as if to beg him to refuse. “I’ve only got grown up gear this time, kiddo” Ryan responds, a wave of concern brought over Ameil’s face, “maybe next time, though. Ok?” With a frown, Amy accepts the man’s answer and walks away, disappointed. “Maybe Emilio can join us?” Ameil abruptly asks, panning back to the hesitant man with a hopeful look, “I’m sure Jade would be interested in picking his brain.” Suddenly less hesitant, Emilio turns to Ryan, appearing as if he doubted the claim just made. “Jade is- wait, what’s a patrol?” Emilio questions, flustered with confusion. “We call hunting a ‘patrol’ around here so people don’t get the wrong idea” Ryan responds, lowering his voice, “you’re not supposed to go beyond the border.” Putting two-and-two together, Emilio turns back to the kitchen, where he occupies one of the island’s barstools. “But, if you’re up for it, we’d love to have you” Ryan doubles down, “it’s just Ameil, Heather, the McKee’s and I. We’ve got another set of gear if you’d like, though?” Reluctant, Emilio feigns considering the offer for a few seconds before attempting to decline. “He’ll do it” Lauren answers instead, watching Emilio’s face dart across the room, laying upon her with immediate annoyance. “Whatever this ‘hunt’ is, he’ll do it” Lauren doubles down, speaking louder than Emilio, who begins an attempt of refusal on his own, “I think he needs a few friends.” “Seriously, we’d love to have you!” Ryan replies, pleased with the answer as he glances back at Emilio, the man’s eyes watching Lauren look at him with a great intensity. “Yeah, alright” Emilio finally caves, giving into Lauren’s acceptance despite his preference remaining largely opposite of such an answer. “That’s great, I’ll send you the info then!” Ryan replies, shaking Emilio’s hand before preparing to leave, “I’ll see you all later!” Leaving the home, the group keeps their pleased facades worn until the coast is clear, where Emilio takes the chance to exercise his frustrations. “What the hell was that!?” Emilio barks, walking in Lauren’s direction with a confrontational edge. “This is your chance to find the others!” Lauren quickly responds, an answer that confuses Emilio the moment it leaves her mouth. “Wha-? You signed me up so I could look for Jack?” Emilio replies, unsure where her reasoning adds up, “Heather, we’re like- an hour outside of Providence. What, do you think he followed us?” “Who else is gonna be on the outside to find out?” Lauren retorts, gathering an equally confused look from Angela, “you could run into him on the way for all we know!” Pulling his head back, Emilio stares at Lauren as if he were wondering whether or not her answer was a joke. “Whatever, I’ve got to go to work” Lauren suddenly remarks, pushing past Emilio as she departs, leaving the home’s two residents hard for words. | Pounding her fist against the front door, Salem waits for an answer, refusing to speak until she knows someone is on the inside to greet her. “Whoever you are, schedule an appointment by telephone or mail” Archie replies from inside, sat at the kitchen table with a book in his hand. “Answer the door, or I’m going to drive that truck through your living room window!” Salem barks, almost able to hear a groan coming from within. “She’s not here, Salem” Archie responds, placing a bookmark in the page he leaves off with. “I don’t care, let me in or I’ll let myself in” Salem replies, again left waiting for a response. Casually strolling up to the door, Archie lets the woman enter, unphased by her physical display. “There are, in case you didn’t know, ways to talk to Jade that don’t involve threatening to destroy our house” Archie remarks, following the woman through the home, “like I said, Jade’s not here.” “My dead-sweep application just got reassessed and they hired me” Salem explains, climbing halfway up the house’s U-shaped stairs, “I know she had them change their verdict, I wanna know why.” Letting out a sigh, Archie’s head falls toward the ground, strapped for an answer. “Perhaps you convinced her the town was safe in your hands” Archie jokes, doing little to quell Salem’s anger, “our door doesn’t seem to be, but maybe the town will fare better.” “I’m not laughing at your joke” Salem replies, watching the man’s eyes roll. “I’m not joking! Our door has fifteen new dents, and I can promise you Jade will know exactly who put them there” Archie replies, pushing his humour aside for a moment, “I don’t know if she did, but why would that be a bad thing?” “Do I need to have a reason?” Salem responds, crossing her arms as she looks down from the staircase’s landing. “If you threaten to park my car inside the living room- yeah, kinda” Archie replies, looking into Salem’s face to find defeat. Silent, Salem’s head begins to hang, almost as if she were angry at the simple fact that she could be so angry. “Listen, I won’t pretend to know you or what you’ve been through. That’s not my business” Archie explains, watching the woman’s eyes trail toward him, “but I was there when we vetted you. I think it’s safe to say that, if we both had to guess, there’s something inside you that doesn’t click with all of this.” Turning away, Salem lets the man continue to speak, hearing him out without needing to pay him the attention he’d like. “There’s definitely an allure to what’s outside, Jade’s not wrong- but some people take to it more than others” Archie furthers, finally earning Salem’s eyesight, “you might just be one of the people that need it to function.” Calming herself from the anger she’d entered the home carrying, Salem’s breaths blow the loose hairs that hang in front of her face, throwing them outward before they fall back into place. “I don’t feel normal” Salem replies in a low voice, as if ashamed to make such a claim, “why doesn’t this feel right?” With a frown, Archie accepts the feeling of sympathy that comes over him, not afraid to offer an answer most would stray away from. “Maybe because it’s not?” Archie replies, pressing his hand into the railing as he looks at Salem, the silence that follows his response left to linger, sitting with them in the quietest parts of their mind. | “Is your real name ‘Rocky’ or do you just call yourself that because you live in ‘Rockford’?” Jack inquires, sat on a table as doctor’s tend to the wound on his hand. “What does it matter to you?” Rocky replies, leant against a surgical table with his arms crossed, hesitant to say much. “Well, if the answer is ‘number one’, it means you’re not trying to hide yourself. You don’t mind being open” Jack responds, holding back a slight chuckle, “if it’s the second, you’re just uncreative.” Amused, Rocky’s tongue runs over his bottom lip, wondering how to answer. “What is it, Rock? Are you an honest man or are you just a square?” Jack proceeds, watching the man’s teeth appear from behind his teeth. “I’m the man that chose to bring you into my home, and help you bandage that gnarly bullshit up” Rocky replies, both eyebrows lifting a few inches, “does that satisfy you?” “Jack, stop poking the bear” Nessie interjects, sat in a chair between Clint and Franklin, who keep their guard raised whilst Jack’s hand is stitched. “Where did you get these supplies in the first place, Rock?” Jack bothers to ask, disregarding Nessie’s suggestion with visible glee. “Stop asking questions, boy” Rocky replies, clearly beginning to grow perturbed, “you’re lucky that I let you live.” “Why is that by the way?” Jack continues, taking more joy in Rocky's reactions the more they divulge his true frustrations, “wouldn’t want to give your boys the impression that you’re ill-tempered? Maybe too trigger happy?” Unholstering a firearm from his hip, Rocky begins to approach Jack, letting the conferral warn the man on his behalf. “Maybe you don’t practise what you preach?” Jack persists, starting to laugh at Rocky’s perceived weakness, “all bark and no bite?” Goading Rocky into lifting his gun, Jack takes the opportunity he’s crafted for himself, prying his hand away from the attending nurse’s grasp and throwing it toward Rocky. With ease, Jack separates Rocky’s hand from the gun and takes it for himself, a gentle redirection now placing Jack in control. His finger on the trigger, Jack holds Rocky at gunpoint to the rest of his group’s surprise, giving into the thought in his mind. “What the hell are you doing!?” Franklin grunts, unable to comprehend the hole Jack’s begun to dig himself into. “He said it himself- we’re of no use if we’re not a threat to him” Jack replies, tilting the barrel of the handgun downward in an effort of guiding Rocky onto his knees, “I feel pretty fucking threatening now.” “We had a chance of being allowed to leave until you decided to point a gun at the man!” Nessie responds, keeping her voice to a minimum, “thanks for throwing that away!” His head shaking, Jack watches Rocky lower to the ground, refuting Nessie’s claims. “He wasn’t going to let us leave, but he’s gonna have a harder time getting us killed now” Jack replies, his voice calm and steady, poised in the face of his actions, “but if I’m lucky, he’ll cooperate.” “Cooperate with what?” Franklin replies, his voice the lightest of the four, calmed more than the rest, “we came here to keep you from catching an infection.” Hand steady, Jack keeps his eye on Rocky, the man’s demeanour not changing at all. As his breathing steadies, Jack keeps the man at bay, refusing to look at his group or afford the camp’s leader an inch of leverage. “Nova Scotia- I know he knows them” Jack replies, his face illuminated only by the flames of burning candles, night having finished dawning upon Rockford. “That’s what this is about?” Nessie hisses, almost more annoyed at the reason behind Jack’s actions than the actions themselves. “That’s what this has always been about- ever since we got away from Sun City” Jack responds, his conclusion providing a villainous overtone, “he’s our ticket there.” “Jack, this is absurd!” Nessie replies, unable to hide the rage she holds for Jack in the moment. “Is it? Is it really? Go ahead and take a peak outside, huh? Tell me what that looks like to you” Jack replies, forced to speak through gritted teeth, “if this is too low of a standard for them, we ought to be on the next bus to Boston.” “You’re basing this on a hunch?” Clint groans, watching Jack’s head shake. “They said there were boats they’d deliver stuff to the mainland on” Jack replies, continuing to stare Rocky down, “I saw the peer when they were bringing us in. It’s been overhauled, and I doubt these guys have the tools to turn a small, waterside dock into one capable of pulling a cargo ship to land- yet, there it is.” “You’ve lost it” Nessie grunts, finally giving Jack the vindication to consult with his hostage. “Let’s ask the man himself. After all, he’s right here” Jack replies, the smile reemerging on his face, “what’s with the dock, Yee-Haw? Selling smuggled Cowboys tickets on the down-low?” With no way to stop the man, Nessie, Clint, and Franklin turn their attention to Rocky, waiting for his answer, as well as for the situation to cease. Scowling, Rocky bites into his bottom lip and offers his answer. “They use it to offload oil” Rocky finally concedes, his revelation, and the true ties it holds to Nova Scotia, putting a look of shock on the group’s face. “Wait, it’s true?” Nessie responds, vindicating Jack’s entire plot by turning her sights onto Rocky’s confirmation, “you’re working with Nova Scotia?” Dissatisfied, Rocky answers with a vitriolic look. “The bastards keep short-changing me” Rocky replies, clearly sharing the resentment he has for the group with those above him, “they use my dock, they load their oil into my warehouses, they sell weaponry made in my factories, and when it comes to giving back what they take- I get scraps!” Squinting in the man’s direction, Jack takes a step backward, lowering the gun a few inches away from the man’s chest. “So, they’re fucking you over, but it’s you that keeps letting them use your ports?” Jack replies, unable to understand the logic behind that. “Have you taken a look around this room?” Rocky inquires, letting Jack take a few glances at the walls, “there’s a light bulb in every corner of this house, yet we’re lighting candles and prancing around in the dark.” Unable to disagree with the man’s logic, Jack lets Rocky continue. “The gas we’re given is what’s left, the food we’re given is what’s left, the medicine we’re given is what’s left” Rocky explains, clearly upset by the situation, “I can’t feed the people here, I can’t treat them without screwing over someone else later down the line- I can’t provide for them. And, if I don’t keep them in check, they’re gonna revolt. And like a bunch of vultures, they’ll circle around and wait for me to die.” “I thought every settlement had to specialise in something- agriculture, or medicine- something Nova Scotia wanted” Jack replies, watching Rocky take humour from his statement. “Yeah, we make guns, and ammo. The stuff you need for war, not for peace” Rocky replies, his statement finished by an observant Franklin. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume you don’t make as much as they’d like” the one-armed man responds, watching Rocky’s eyes roll. “Again, take a look around and you’ll see why that is” the man responds, staring back into his gunman’s eyes, “if you don’t feed people, heal them, make them happy- why would they slave over packing casings?” “There’s no oil refinery around here to take over?” Jack replies, again finding his response met with humour. “If I tried to undermine ‘big brother’ up north, I’d be dead before the vultures even thought to form that circle” Rocky replies, ashamed in his own ability to serve and protect enough to shake his head at the thought, “I’m in a lose-lose situation.” With a chuckle, Rocky gives the statement another thought before looking up at Jack, a half-smile on his own face. “As a matter of fact, kid- just pull the trigger” Rocky remarks, holding his hands outwards, “let this hell be someone else’s grave to dig.” Steadying his weapon, Jack keeps his finger resting on the trigger, half of his mind urging him to finish the job he started. “We might be able to help with that” Franklin suddenly interrupts, quick to draw every survivor’s attention toward him, “not the vulture part, or the ‘big brother’ part, but the ‘weapons’ part.” Doubtful, Rocky finds himself at a place in his life where he bothers to hear the man out, unable to find much of a reason not to. “If you can solve the unsolvable, I’ll give you whatever you want” Rocky responds, immediately sparking looks between the group. “We wanna be the first people on the next trip to Nova Scotia” Jack immediately remarks, taking the opportunity that stands directly in his face. “Kid, if you four can solve my problem, I’ll take you with me when the next leader’s assembly gets called” Rocky replies, prompting Jack’s eyes to turn back toward Franklin, silently urging him to hold up his end of the bargain. “Do we have an agreement, Frank?” Jack inquires, waiting for the head nod Franklin wastes little time in answering with. Taking another two steps back, Jack lowers the gun to his side and directs Rocky’s attention onto Franklin. “Alright, where’s this solution of yours?” Rocky questions, watching a cautious Franklin ease himself into an answer. Clearing his throat, Franklin looks Rocky in the eyes, “do you have a boat?” the man asks, keeping his question brief. == Rise == / Four Months Later /
As the cicadas sing beneath the spring heat of solar noon, life in Cumberland goes on, existing as it has since the town’s inception. Neighbours greeting each other in their front yards, united under the same unique privilege, and visibly pleased to do so. Wheeling their trash bins onto the side of the street, gathering at the bus stop to ride public transit to work, and walking their dogs in quiet forest paths, Cumberland’s residents experience their Tuesday for what it is- another Tuesday. “Morning, Sal!” Emilio exclaims, sharing a wave with the familiar face as the man runs a lawn mower over his lawn, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. “Morning, Em’!” Sal replies, his front yard not leaving much to offer, though its clean, attended-to appearance weighs high on the man’s list of priorities, “getting started on the summer body?” His sleeveless, grey shirt drenched in sweat along its sides and collar, Emilio gives the question a laugh. “I would have preferred to work on a beach body, but we haven’t invaded the coast yet” Emilio replies, the comfort of a well-made pair of runners aiding him in his run, “I’m not keeping my hopes up on that one.” “Maybe we’ll get there someday!” Sal replies, letting the brief conversation end with a wave, “take it easy, Em’!” Corroborating the sentiment, Emilio ends his run with a return to his hillside home, where he descends his grass-covered lawn in an approach of the front door. Catching his breath, Emilio trots into the kitchen, no sound louder than his quake-inducing footsteps as he reaches for the refrigerator. “Hello to you, too” Salem greets, watching Emilio emerge from the cold box with a drink in hand. “What’s up?” Emilio replies, chugging half of his beverage before panning around the room, “I thought Alicia didn’t work on Tuesdays?” “She’s at the store” Salem replies, sitting on the couch with her eyes glued to a television the room’s length away. “And you’re watching football?” Emilio replies, looking toward the same screen with surprise. “We have tickets to a game tonight- I’m trying to learn” Salem replies, her voice lacking the anticipated enthusiasm. “Have you learned anything?” Emilio replies, lowering Salem’s legs off the coffee table before taking the seat beside her. “I’ve learned that there are Tiger Cats in Hamilton, and that I don’t know what the fuck an Argonaut is” Salem replies, watching the blue jersey-sporting quarterback sail a pass fifteen yards over his receiver’s head, “but it seems they both suck at football.” Amused, Emilio sinks into the couch, prepared to spend the afternoon watching reruns of football games until the sun goes down before a knock lures him toward the front door. “Hi!” Emilio greets, surprised to find another familiar face at his answer. “Hey!” Annie replies, taking instant recognition of the sweat covering his body, “I see the heat’s treated you well.” Friendly, Emilio leans against the doorframe. “Yes, I’ve been given the curse of sweating after physical activities” the man replies, quickly retreating to the obvious question, “is there something I can help you with?” “Yeah, I was wondering if I could use your phone?” Annie replies, squinting her eyes as if ashamed to ask the question. “Of course!” Emilio replies, stepping aside to grant the woman entry, “is everything alright?” “Yeah, I’m just an idiot sometimes” the woman replies, taking the phone off its wall-mounted receiver, “I usually bike from work and then go on my run, but I started my run from the school and forgot I still had to bring my bike back.” Nodding, Emilio watches the woman dial the buttons as he leans into the kitchen’s island, watching her head press against the phone. “My husband and I are hosting a bonfire and I was supposed to pick up firewood” the woman explains, waiting for the man to answer on the other line, “now I’m gonna be late, and I don’t want him to worry.” Returning to the living room, Emilio leaves Annie to make her phone call in peace, the curious look Salem stares at their guest with easily noticed. “What’s with the look?” Emilio whispers, his question recognised with little more than a passing glance, the woman continuing to stare intently at Annie. Quiet, Salem watches the woman make her call, the look Annie’s given completely unnoticed by the bike-bound woman. “Yeah, I love you too” Annie replies, sharing her departing words with the man responsible for the ring on her finger, “bye.” With that, her phone call ends, allowing her to turn back to Emilio with appreciation. “Thank you, I really appreciate it” Annie replies, politely following Emilio’s lead the way she arrived. “Not a problem” the man responds, opening the front door with grace as Annie steps through, only to stop her departure by glancing back. “Hey, maybe you and your friends can stop by if you’re free?” Annie offers, watching a hint of reluctance begin to peer out from Emilio’s smile. “A lot of people around here really want to get to know you all better- I mean, more than just a brief ‘how’re you doing?’ during your runs” Annie explains, slowly chipping away at Emilio’s disinclination. “I don’t want to pressure you. Just, if you’re interested, it’s on Meadowlark Lane. Just look for the big fire, you won’t be able to miss it” Annie explains, her friendly expression making it difficult to deny her offer. “Maybe” Emilio replies, earning a shrug from the woman as she retreats up the hills. “We light the fire at sundown!” Annie warns, resuming her run as if it were never on pause. As the woman sprints away, Emilio retreats inside, closing the door before turning around, finding Salem standing a few feet back with the same inquisitive look on her face. “Can I help you?” Emilio inquires, watching Salem’s hands sink into her pockets as she turns back, answering the question while reclaiming her seat on the couch. “I thought you had a thing for penises” Salem replies, displaying the most humour she’s mustered since arriving in the settlement. “The penis I had a thing for died a few years ago” Emilio replies, standing under the arch between the kitchen and living room, “now I only have a thing for chilli cheese dogs and bacon fries.” With a chuckle, Salem unmutes the television and returns to her spectating, a gesture that bemuses Emilio. “Wait. That’s- that’s it?” Emilio wonders aloud, watching the woman’s eyes take back to him, “you think I turned straight and want to fuck our married, vagina-wielding neighbour?” “You could have used a pairing other than ‘vagina-wielding’, but- no, that’s not it” Salem replies, lowering the television’s volume a few decibels, “she’s just- I don’t know- innocent.” Confused, Emilio rests his hand against the wall. “You say that like she’s a children’s cartoon” the man replies, almost earning another laugh, “she’s nice, sure. She’s very polite too, I’ll give you that. But I don’t really know what you’re trying to get at.” “I’m not getting at anything” Salem replies, again kicking her feet atop the coffee table, “I’m saying she’s innocent, or pure, or whatever. She’s just untouched by everything beyond Cumberland.” Rolling his eyes, Emilio slides a kitchen stool across the ground, occupying the seat. “I thought the whole point of going to Cumberland was to forget about the zombies” Emilio replies, watching Salem’s head shake as she looks back to the game. “The zombies aren’t as much of a threat as they used to be, but the people sure are” Salem retorts, watching the wrong idea cement itself in Emilio’s head. “You think her decency is threatening?” the man asks, only further frustrating the woman. “I’m not saying anything about her other than ‘she’s innocent’, it’s not her I’m referring to” Salem replies, “I’m telling you not to forget that we’re still trying to get to Nova Scotia. We can’t forget that people can still be dangerous.” “Okay, give me a little more than that” Emilio replies, calmly responding to the statement, “I think you’re being a little more vague than you think you are.” Taking a deep breath, Salem restates her thoughts as requested. “I’m reminding you that people will still do what’s necessary if it means cutting in line to get into Nova Scotia” Salem remarks, again muting the television, “they may not kill you to get it, but they can sabotage you if it makes them look better. Selfishness doesn’t die.” “So, you want me to tread lightly?” Emilio clarifies, his answer good enough to satisfy Salem. “Sure, that’d be good” the woman responds, unable to find a better conclusion than the one offered. “I’m gonna get in the shower” Emilio remarks, returning the stool to its place in the island as he departs. The television unmuted for the second time, Salem returns to her viewing, visibly disappointed at the result of the conversation. = Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 3 onwards = “Why do you bother with those?” Lauren inquires, watching her coworker remove the I.D card from the pocket of a recently-deceased. “Out of respect” the woman replies, laying the card on the ground, where it joins a small pile of others, “we can’t bury their bodies anymore, so we might as well bury their card.” With a shrug, Lauren hoists a corpse of her own onto a gurney, its padding stripped to just the metal platform a seat used to sit upon. “I used to know a few people that did the same thing” Lauren remarks, driving a small knife through the side of the corpse’s skull. “You used to know people?” the other woman responds sarcastically, “you, of all people, knew other people?” Unamused, Lauren glances up at the woman with a frown. “Yes, Grace, I used to know people” Lauren replies, raising her middle finger at the woman before leading her gurney into a large, semi-lit tunnel. “Well, go on” Grace retorts, following with her own gurney closely behind. “I met a few kids, I think they were eighteen or nineteen at the time? Anyway, it was around the first few months after everything went to shit, and they were in the same camp as me” Lauren explains, met with the silence of a captivated audience, “whenever they’d kill one of the dead, they’d bury their I.D and move on.” “I’m listening” Grace interjects, watching Lauren look back at her, “that’s it- that’s the story” she replies over her shoulder. “You’re not a very good story teller” Grace jokes, continuing to follow Lauren down the long stretch of tunnel, its lights beginning to flicker the deeper they venture within it. “What happened to them?” Grace eventually inquires, spending a few seconds with nothing more than the squeaky wheels to keep them entertained, “the kids with the I.D’s?” The question prompting her to hide a slight discomfort, Lauren opts to answer honestly. “One of them was shot some time ago” Lauren replies, her tone slightly changed, something Grace fails to pick up on, “he didn’t make it.” Tilting her head to the side, Grace asks the obvious follow-up. “And what about the other one?” the woman questions, reaching a large, industrial-sized door at the tunnel’s conclusion, “did they die too?” Pressing her fist against one of two buttons, Lauren makes room for the door to open, parting from the centre. “She left the group I was in shortly before I came here” Lauren replies, watching a large, menacingly dark fire pit appear through the large panels, “I just hope she’s doing well for herself.” Not thinking twice of the woman’s response, Grace accepts the tale for what it is and returns to her duties, dumping the corpse down a small ramp, and watching it slide into the incinerator. “Was there more people in-?” Grace begins to ask, interrupted by Lauren as the second corpse is disposed of. “Let’s change the topic” Lauren replies, preparing to return the way she arrived, “is he still an asshole?” “He’s not an asshole” Grace replies, responding as if she doubts herself, and giving Lauren little reason to believe her. “He’s a narcissistic clown that justifies looking down on people with the figure on his paycheck” Lauren doubles down, raising her eyebrow in Grace’s direction, “does letting you live with him rent free really cancel that out?” “I’d be worse off without him” Grace replies, quick to combat her own doubt with defence, “our job isn’t exactly much more than ‘thankless’, Lauren.” Continuing to walk back to the corpse’s they leave remaining, the sound of childish joy catches Lauren’s ear, bringing her both concern and annoyance. Leaving her gurney aside, Lauren takes to the end of the tunnel, watching the artificial light give way for more natural alternatives, the field she enters bringing her the sight she expected. “Roddy! Randy!” Lauren exclaims angrily, watching two children wrestle in the open space, “I thought I told you not to come out here anymore!” Pulling apart to see Lauren approach them, the boys scamper off, running through the woods as Grace catches up. “How do you become less of a ‘people person’ the more I get to know you?” Grace wonders, watching Lauren from the tunnel’s entrance. “Because I keep meeting people” Lauren sarcastically responds, turning back to the tunnel with a shrug. | “I’m gonna grab something to eat, do you want anything?” Angela asks, forced to shout over the sounds of gathered marching bands in order for Salem to hear her. “I’d like to know why I decided to buy tickets to a sport I know nothing about” Salem jokingly replies, soon gratefully declining the woman’s offer, “I’m good over here. I’ll catch up with you later.” As Angela departs, Salem begins to climb around the cheerful residents prepared for a night of organised violence, looking for a spot on the bench large enough to seat two. Climbing up one step at a time, Salem continues failing to find room, each new row somehow packed more than the row that came before it. Eventually, the woman reaches the highest stand available, her struggle to find room to sit becoming apparent. “I take it you know nothing about sports” Jade calls out, stood near the entrance to a small, yet considerably spacious press box. “I know how to play pool and darts” Salem soon replies, taking a look at the field in the same moment as the ball is sent flying through the air on an opening kickoff. “We’ve got some room in here” Jade politely assures, leaving her statement open-ended, alluding to Salem being allowed to join her. “That solves one problem” Salem finally replies, the accepted offer putting a grin on Jade’s face. “The first rule of going to a football game with bleachers is to get there a half-hour early” Jade explains, stepping aside to let Salem enter, only Jade’s brothers and a pair of cameramen occupying the room. Hesitant to say much, Salem sits in a chair and stares out the window, her sights kept to the play on the field. “Wanna hear a little fun fact?” Jade offers, sat in the seat directly to Salem’s left, answering with little more than a look. “So, they have a football league up in Nova Scotia, and theirs is much more organised” Jade explains, panning back to the game, “and when the coaches don’t like how a player is performing, they’ll come down here, and they’ll ask for the best players at the positions they need, and immediately take them back to Nova Scotia.” “I don’t think she knows what that means” Oliver murmurs, folded hands in his lap as he lays back in a recliner. “It doesn’t matter. The point is that this ecosystem runs so deep, it’s embedded in our sports” Jade replies, raising her finger toward the ongoing snap, “these guys aren’t playing for the love of the game- they’re playing for a job.” “Is that supposed to impress me?” Salem inquires, legitimately uncertain of the answer, “I don’t know what any of that means, so- how am I supposed to react?” Rolling her eyes, Jade looks back to the game, not bothering to answer the question proposed. “Why are you unemployed?” Jade asks, looking back to see how Salem responds to the question. “Because this town won’t hire me as a dead sweeper” Salem responds, “or a cop, or a firefighter, or whatever else you’ve got.” “Why do you keep applying to jobs that give you a gun?” Jade retorts, taking only that from the response. “Why does your town keep refusing to give me a job that lets me have a gun?” Salem counters, earning both a laugh and a nod from her powerful contemporary. “Maybe it’s within the town’s best interest to keep a loaded firearm off you while we can” Jade half-jokingly replies, pausing for a moment before adding to her claim, “though, maybe it wouldn’t be when you’re outside of town.” Reading between the lines of Jade’s response, Salem turns toward her slowly, waiting for the woman to continue. “Choosing to invite you here was one of the easiest choices I have ever made- ever” Jade persists, leaning on the short counter to her side, “when I vetted you and your friends, the one consistent I picked up on was that you- not Emilio, Alicia, Lauren, or Angela- but you have been the most reliable, resourceful, and powerful survivor since the moment the world changed.” Waiting for the punchline, Salem matches Jade’s posture, her arm pressing against the counter as she looks Cumberland’s leader in the face. “Those are the kind of people that are irreplaceable, the kind of people that you don’t want to be on the wrong side of” Jade explains, slowly allowing her smile to reappear, “those are the kinds of people that Nova Scotia likes to see at the front of the line.” Able to see the conversation’s impending path, Salem turns away, looking back to the game as Jade’s offer settles in, cementing itself within the back of the woman’s mind. “You do want to get into Nova Scotia, don’t you?” Jade questions, unsure of the answer amidst Salem’s reaction. “I don’t know” Salem replies, taking little time to give an answer, “I don’t even know if I want to be here, let alone a place three times as big.” Puzzled and intrigued, Jade soon comes across a thought, letting a few seconds pass before testing the waters around it. “Is that why you’re pushing to get in emergency services?” the leader replies, waiting for the change in Salem’s expression, “because you’re homesick for the battlegrounds?” If a change in expression is present, Jade fails to see one, only watching the inquiry bounce off Salem’s shoulders the moment it was asked, unregarded. “I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me” Jade explains, finally getting her change in expression, though not the change she’d hoped for. “Who said I wanted your help?” Salem replies, quick to argue the woman’s statement with a less pleased tone of voice, “who said anything about help? I didn’t.” Her hand held at her chest, Jade presents a display of surrender, alleviating any hostility before it can get out of hand. “It’s not difficult to see that you’re unhappy” Jade replies, a softer voice than the confident one she’d used to this point, “I have the power to give you something you want, but don’t have. I’m only offering my help, should you choose to want it, in getting you whatever that is.” Lulled into the considerate mindset she entered the press box with, Salem lowers her own voice. Listening to the distant sound of referee whistles blaring in the night, Salem stares into the dark sky, pondering her thoughts quietly. “I just want to stop feeling like I’m somewhere I don’t belong” Salem finally replies, looking back at Jade, who appears surprisingly understanding of her request. “It was fine back in Concord, but that was different. We’d been on the road for so long that it was almost like I’d never actually left society. I’d just- I’d just left into the woods for a few months and came back” Salem explains, feeling safe enough to let her guard down. “But it’s different now, y’know?” Salem continues, looking at Jade with worried eyes, “I can’t remember how the world used to work now, but when I think about being on the road, it’s like I’m actually out there again.” Letting her hands fall into the warmth of her lap, Jade lowers her own charismatic facade in a moment of genuine compassion. “It may be brutal and violent, but your world has an undeniable allure to it, Salem” Jade replies, not hiding from her own desires, “I’ve never had to live like you, but I still go out of my way to head out there and vet the people Courtney sends to me. I’m the town’s heart, but even I like skipping a few beats- I get it.” “You don’t get it enough” Salem quickly counters, suppressing a sadness that builds deep within her, “because, when the day ends, you can still come back here and feel like you belong.” | Running through the DVR in a baggy shirt with a bag of crisps, Alicia wastes her evening away with mind numbing entertainment. “Did Lauren get home yet?” Emilio asks, his heavy shoes having gradually tapped on the floor louder as he approached the living room. “She pulled in an hour ago” Alicia replies, impressed at the man’s appearance. “I was just starting to like the beard” Alicia remarks, looking at the appreciative look on Emilio’s clean-shaven face, the only thing more impressive being his ability to make the outfit of a skin-tight, white t-shirt and jeans look appropriate for a social gathering. “My face was definitely disagreeing with you” Emilio replies, grabbing a jacket off the hanger as he prepares to leave, “are you sure you don’t wanna come?” “I’m waiting for my doctor to give me a call” Alicia replies, noticing the confusion on her friend’s face. “Yes, the doctor remains open until the late hours now, Em’” Alicia clarifies, quickly reassuring her appreciation, “I am grateful for the offer, though. I hope you have fun.” Gently nudging his fist against Alicia’s shoulder, Emilio retreats, climbing to street level as he begins the walk toward his destination. Having found his desire to bring a jacket vindicated, Emilio braces against the slight chill in the night as he walks down the street, hands in his pockets as his eyes survey the row of well-kept homes, the fire he looks for found as unmistakably as Annie had led him to believe it would. “Is this the audition for ‘Little Drummer Boy’ or is that the next house over?” Emilio quips, watching the individual, fireside conversations turn to collective cheering. “You made it!” Annie shouts, the first to leave her seat. “Emilio, this is Ryan- my husband” the woman greets, stepping aside for the two men to shake hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emilio” Ryan remarks, “I was living in Hartford while you were campaigning. I swear, that win should’ve been yours.” “Oh, well thank you” Emilio replies, very appreciative of the kind words, “I think I put a lot of effort into it. It’s been so long, though- I can barely even remember it happened now.” Too overcome by the abundance of celebration to worry about how re-entering society would feel, Emilio just moves with the motions. “Annie was telling me that you’d been out there all this time” Ryan comments, “I mean, it’s been three and a half years! What’s that been like?” “Well, I can’t say it’s been easy. As a matter of fact, it’s changed me considerably” Emilio replies, unafraid to reflect on the life he’s lived, “it took my husband, and my friends, and a piece of me I’ll never get back if I’m being honest. But now, I’m here, and I’m ready to make all of that just another chapter in my life.” “That’s what people come to Cumberland for. From what I can gather about the outside, the only way to live is to just view this town as another chapter” Ryan replies, shaking the man’s hand again as he moves on to tend over more guests, “I’ve got to run, but I’m sure we’ll talk again tonight.” Bowing his head, Emilio watches the man depart, left only with Annie by his side. “He seems like a nice guy” Emilio remarks, looking back at the delighted homeowner, “did you get married before or after everything happened?” “We got engaged before, but we had our wedding a few months after” Annie replies, a champagne-less glass of orange juice held in her hand, “between you and me, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for the last few months.” His eyes widened, Emilio looks at the woman with general niceties. “Starting a little family in Cumberland, are you?” Emilio replies, adding humour to the night’s discussion. “Well, sort of” Annie replies, a somewhat guilty look appearing on her face, “when you’re pregnant, or you have a kid, the whole family is the first on board the next trip to Nova Scotia.” Understanding the picture a little better, Emilio attempts to respond, only to be guided away by the sound of his name. “Emilio?” a voice inquires from behind the man, guiding Annie’s guest in their general direction, where they’re met with a look of shock and awe. “What-?” Emilio mutters beneath his breath, turning to find Ameil stood behind him, whilst Heather approaches soon after with Amy by her side, yet to see their once fellow survivor turned neighbour. “You two know each other?” Annie asks enthusiastically, unaware of their shared history. “You- you-” Emilio stammers, visibly unable to comprehend what he’s seeing, “you’re alive?” == Rise == “Why do you call it ‘Cumberland’?” Angela inquires, leaving the question at Jade’s feet as the sky darkens, turning to night. “Because it’s in a town called Cumberland” Jade replies, quickly appearing to rescind her statement, “we didn’t see a point in getting fancy, so we just kept the name on all the signs. Honestly, it was much more cost-efficient.”
“You took over the whole town?” Emilio questions curiously, his eyes pressing closer together as he turns to his left, giving Cumberland’s leader an inquisitive look. “It was a lot easier than you’d think” Jade replies, one arm draped over the side of the truck bed, the other hanging over her bent knee, “at first, all we needed to do was cut off the entry points along two freeways.” “Aren’t most freeways littered with dead cars?” Lauren asks, sat near the rear of the vehicle, “wouldn’t that be enough of a cut off?” With a shrug, Jade responds whilst looking down the road ahead, her hair thrown by unusually cold winds. “Sometimes, it could be. But there were plenty of times where they caused trouble” Jade replies, her poised and animated demeanour never letting up, “after a year or so, we got in contact with Nova Scotia and the rest was history.” Quiet, the ride persists as it had been, veering around automobile-scattered roads in favour of slicing through thick grass, muddy trails, and rocky hills. “How’d you find out about Nova Scotia?” Salem calls out, the distance from the conversation failing to keep her from listening in. “They found us” Jade replies, lifting her voice just slightly in Salem’s direction, “if I’m being specific, it was Courtney that found us. She must have seen a fire from above, I never asked how.” “So she just- flew out of the sky and asked to talk to you?” Alicia replies, slightly amused by the image she’s left to picture, “and you went along with whatever she said?” Aware of the humour taken, Jade maintains her presence, answering the question directly. “When gas is scarce and someone flies down from the sky with a full jerry can, you don’t tend to fire at them” the confident lady replies, “and when they say they can get you more, you don’t tend to doubt them.” Peering through the sunvisor's mirror, Salem watches Jade in the reflection, intently studying the woman. “We met with some of their officials, we negotiated a deal, and expanded the town out to its natural borders” Jade concludes, allowing her legs to stretch out across the flatbed, “we’ve been bringing in people since then- about two years at this point.” “How many people do you have now?” Lauren murmurs, tilting her head back to look out at the sky. “We’ve taken in just under three thousand people- including you. The majority of the town were people that already lived there- that helped us cut off the entry points” Jade replies, quickly finding herself interrupted. “How many people already lived there?” Lauren cuts in, turning her head in the woman’s direction, desiring an answer. “We’ve taken two counts, one ourselves and one with Nova-” Jade begins to reply, again interrupted by the woman on the other side of Emilio. “What’s the number?” Lauren doubles down, the hint of anger beginning to creep into her voice. Her eyes pulling toward Lauren’s direction, Jade pauses to allow the woman respite, “just a little over twenty thousand.” “And you couldn’t make room for an extra six?” Alicia queries, obviously growing resentful. “It’s not that we couldn’t, it’s that we shouldn’t” Jade replies, pulling her arms away from the vehicle’s sides, beginning to speak with them as her response continues. “We can’t just make exceptions for one group when we wouldn’t for any other” the leader explains, beginning to speak with more vigour, “we take the strongest, the smartest, the most adapt, and the most trustworthy. No exceptions.” “So what made us different from the others?” Emilio quickly asks, quashing the emotional escalation he can sense rise near its boiling point, “why are we any of those things the others aren’t?” His face turning to the left, Emilio looks into Jade’s eyes, his question asked calmly, his demeanour unarguably unthreatening. Tongue gliding over her bottom lip, Jade’s head pulls away, briefly considering her options. “Jack was too skeptical of everything, Clint was worthless in combat, and, as tempted as I was to give Franklin the nod, it’d take a miracle for Nova Scotia to accept a handicap” Jade begins, offering her answers in quick succession, “Katie never truly thinking to mourn for her brother didn’t sit well with me, and Jess just didn’t fucking try. Does that cover it?” Panning around the vehicle, Jade looks for reactions, waiting for an answer. “It covers half” Emilio soon responds, watching the woman’s face look back to his own, “what made you choose us?” Letting out a steady breath, Jade lulls herself into a regained composure, answering for each person whilst looking them in the eyes. “Alicia’s judo background can allow her to train some of our own for combat, which makes her valuable in multiple ways” Jade replies, continuing in the order the passengers reside. “Angela understands what her priorities are, isn’t afraid to question herself, and can question things that appear simple for what they are” Jade persists, turning past Emilio, “Lauren displays the ability to do what’s necessary, even in times of difficulty. She’ll make the right call because it’s the right call.” Her eyes falling upon Emilio, Jade goes quiet, plenty to say with such little time. “As for you, I’m shocked you weren’t their leader sooner” Jade remarks, resting her hands over the sides of the truck again, “you’ve survived the lowest times, never stray a beat from ‘Humble Road’, and have the wherewithal to calm a situation by speaking. You were a no-brainer.” His head lowering, Emilio’s attempt to hide his appreciation is aided by Salem’s voice calling out. “You’re forgetting about someone” Salem proclaims, dangling her right hand through the open window. “Do I really need to elaborate on why you’re here?” Jade responds, again letting humour gradually seep into the journey, “I let you call shotgun, doesn’t that say enough?” Her back pressing against the seat, Salem’s face sprouts a grin, almost as if discovering validation. The ride reaching its natural conclusion, Archie guides the vehicle over a hill and back onto paved street, the asphalt the group reaches no longer covered in thick overgrowth. “We like to make our little town look aesthetically pleasing” Jade remarks, noticing the many eyes around her begin to peer out at the clear roadways, almost in shock, “first impressions are important to us.” Speechless, the group settles back into their spots, not wanting to appear anything less than the image Jade’s bestowed upon them. Within another few feet, the road becomes surrounded by well-trimmed trees, their branches lined with rows of Christmas lights as the vehicle begins to slow. “McKee party, five passengers, all vetted, no wounded, no sick” Archie lists, peering through his window toward a man, who stands with a rifle atop a well-hidden platform. “McKee, five vetted, no wounded, no sick” the man relays, shouting down a path of road concealed behind a large, industrial fortification. “Let them in” the man finally urges additional, unseen crew workers, granting them permission to part the barricaded structure, allowing the vehicle re-entry. “Thanks, Sal” Jade murmurs, raising her hand to the platform-stood man as the flatbed passes through the gates, the man’s smile and wave coming from a long-lost era of civility. Glancing back at her residential additions, Jade notices the unnatural looks upon the group’s collective faces, all hiding their deep wonder behind masks of general placidity. “It’s alright for this to feel weird- you haven’t had this in years. It’s normal” Jade comforts, watching every eye dawn upon her, hesitant to give into the allure a simple palisade. Most opting to look away, Lauren keeps her eyes placed upon Jade, who notices this gesture and shrugs. Driving an additional few miles, the truck passes a large, concrete sign in the middle of a roundabout, its lights lighting the town’s name, which stands chiselled into stone. The streets well-groomed, the grass well-maintained, and the trees well-trimmed, a paradise the survivors could only dream of embraces them within its embrace. “Like I said before” Jade proclaims once more, watching every pair of eyes steer back toward her, “it’s normal.” = Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 3 onwards = Groaning as he rolls onto his side, Jack pulls his head from the small of his arm and wipes the crust from his eyes, still feeling the warmth of the campfire woft over his face. “Don’t wake up the others” Nessie whispers, taking notice of his awakening from the steps above. Paying the woman a glance, Jack peers across the stairwell, where Clint and Franklin remain asleep on their respective, marble platforms. Keeping his groans contained, Jack rolls onto his back as his hands roll over his forehead, his sweat having given his skin a glossy sheen. “How long have-?” Jack begins to whisper, only pausing as his hands pass by his face, the ring on his left hand momentarily reflecting the fire nearby. “I’ve been up for a few hours” Nessie replies, nibbling at a cooked piece of fat, “the fire was dying out, I just chose to stay up.” Pulling himself up, Jack slides against the marble wall behind himself, using it as a backrest to sit against. “We need to figure out where to go from here” Jack stammers, slowly letting himself cycle through the motions of waking up. “Oh yeah, what’ve you got in mind, sleepy?” Nessie replies, her teeth pressing into her scrambled-together breakfast. “We need a place to stay, we should start with that” Jack replies, hands folded in his lap, “figure out where our next meal comes from, that’ll help.” With a nod, Nessie kicks one foot over the other and replies with humour. “While we’re at it, we should find a plane, make a trip out to the Bahamas and check into a hotel” Nessie replies, her eyes trailing over to the man below, “you’ve thought of it all.” His eyes rolling, Jack presses his head against the stone backdrop, leaving the question in Nessie’s hands. “If you’re gonna criticise me, I’ll assume you have a better plan of your own” Jack replies, paying a look toward a suddenly less-amused Nessie, her eyes rolling as she turns away, “I thought so.” “Why do we need a plan?” Nessie suddenly retorts, lowering herself closer to Jack while she carries the leather cover to a notepad, its usage now as a plate for slices of cooked meat. “What’s the alternative?” Jack replies, the fabric of his shirt riding higher with each shrug of his shoulders, “live life day-to-day until we fall into another camp?” “Would that be so bad?” Nessie cuts back, watching as Jack quickly attempts to restate his point. “I’m not against it, but I’d like to know that we’re trying to get somewhere” the man replies, graciously accepting a slab of buck. “Never living outside of a city might play a big part in that” Nessie replies, wrapping a blanket over her legs while pulling herself closer to the fire. “The city life is always about the ‘hustle and bustle’. You start your day, you end your day, repeat. You’re always working up to something” Nessie explains, her legs pulled up to her chest, “when all that goes away, life just happens. You’re not scrambling to meet a deadline, or dying to get to five o’clock- you just live.” “You can’t do that without a plan?” Jack replies, ripping a piece of meat from its slab. “You can, but it’d be stupid to” Nessie replies, waving her hand out at the dark, apocalyptic scene surrounding them, “when the tunnel vision clears- this is what you’re left with. Just the world as it is. No phones, no deadlines, no end to the work day- just what’s around you.” Quiet, Jack stares at the top of the stairs, the top half of city hall’s entrance peering over the top-most step. “Let’s start with dinner” Nessie concludes, patting Jack on the knee as she climbs up, “we can stay here all we want, but we’re going to need food.” Without another word, Nessie places the leather plate beside Jack and walks off, arming herself with a mallet as she descends the stairs, making for the front doors. | “Welcome to my home” Jade greets, climbing over the lowered tailgate and onto her stone-paved driveway. “This is your home?” Alicia replies, the lavish mansion the McKee siblings depart toward bewildering her. “This isn’t just our home” Jade replies, turning around with her arms stretched out, “this is 18 Rawson- the heartbeat of Cumberland.” “18 Rawson?” Salem replies, the only guest remotely unimpressed. “It’s the address. Like ‘10 Downing Street’, or ‘24 Sussex’- it’s the leader’s home” Jade replies, turning back for the front door, “anything that has to do with official business- negotiations, fundraising, supply-spending… It all happens here.” “And why are we here?” Salem rejoinders, slamming her door shut as she ducks into the strap of her rifle. Leading her key into the doorknob, Jade glances back at the woman with a smile. “Did you think we were just gonna drop you on the side of the road and figure it out from there?” Jade replies, pushing the front door open before vanishing inside. “The town functions like any town you’ve seen before, the only difference is the environment around it” Jade explains, leading the dirty survivors through her hardwood-floored home. “The landlines work, we have hot water, most homes are fitted with solar panels, and most people get around by bike” Jade rattles in quick succession, “dial 0-0-0 if you see a corpse stumbling around, and our crew of just over five hundred will rush over and take care of it- just as if it were a fire or criminal.” Setting her keys into a bowl on the dining table, Jade proceeds through the larger home, continuing her introduction. “The people will be kind, but they’re competitive. You’re all fighting for the same thing- a ticket” Jade explains, sinking her teeth into an apple as she steps into the kitchen, “serve your settlement extremely well and that ticket will be yours. That said, those tickets are hard to come by, so there’s a fair chance you’ll spend the rest of your lives here.” “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing” Alicia replies, still slightly astounded at what surrounds her. “It’s not, but I won’t pretend it’s the ‘cream of the crop’” Jade replies, climbing atop a bar stool and ushering her guests to claim any of the unoccupied seats. “We’ve got similar luxuries- armed safety, stocked store shelves, medicine, fucking football- we have plenty” Jade explains, her finger rising into the air, “but, and I speak from experience, it’s not Nova Scotia.” “Why would we want to go to Nova Scotia then?” Salem replies, the only guest not to take Jade’s offer of a seat, “I don’t suppose everyone has a taste for ‘the big city’.” Her head shaking, Jade finishes her bite before speaking. “That doesn’t matter. It’s just like L.A, or New York- as long as enough people do, the ticket will always be in high demand” Jade explains, sinking her teeth into the bright-red fruit, “if you wish to spend the rest of your life here, that’s your choice.” Sharing glances in each other’s direction, the group remains observant, waiting for someone to raise the first question. “Why keep aligning yourself with the New World Order?” Emilio wonders aloud, setting his sights on any of the McKee siblings for an answer, “if you’ve got it this good, what’s holding you back?” Sharing a laugh, the McKee’s hand the answer off to the oldest of the quarter. “Oil- nothing more, nothing less” Archie replies, pressing his hands together, “without their oil, this place isn’t standing. We can arm ourselves to the teeth, but Cumberland won’t buy anything more than another lost cause on a map of one thousand other lost causes.” “You can’t make your own oil?” Salem replies in somewhat of a suspicious tone, earning another laugh from the man. “We can make whatever we want. Medicine, food, alcohol, oil- you name it, and we have a way of making it” Archie replies, trying to hide the smile on his face, “but it’s not about being fundamentally independent, it’s about the ecosystem set up here.” “Elaborate” Emilio cuts in, interested enough to sit back with his arms crossed. “You see, people don’t tend to think two-dimensionally when it comes to power- which is partly why Angela was invited here” Archie explains, “the key to ruling this world isn’t food- it’s not weaponry, or medicine- it’s oil, it’s gas, it’s fuel.” “We get that” Emilio replies, waiting for the point to come about, “they set up a refinery and took the keys to the kingdom, we un-” “No, that’s not what they did” Archie interjects, watching Emilio’s eyes begin to squint as he’s cut off. “I’ll cut it to you like this- what is refined oil worth if no one’s around to buy it?” Archie inquires, his eyes floating across the table like a lost dog, waiting for a hand to raise. “The lifeline to their grasp on power isn’t the oil- it’s the consumer” Archie proceeds, watching Emilio’s head begin to fall back, finding the path he’s been led toward. “They knew the world was going to hell, and that’s why they set up these compounds. And when those fell, they adjusted” Archie remarks, matching Emilio’s head lean, “they needed consumers and couldn’t rely on their compounds any more. So they helped set up settlements they could get to produce goods, controlled the flow of those goods, and made sure the most priceless good on the market was the one they controlled.” | “Why did you say ‘no’?” Jack inquires, following Nessie through thick clumps of grass, their destination yet to be determined. “I beg your pardon?” Nessie replies, walking a few steps ahead of the man. “Well, I pardon your beg” Jack mocks, his joke received with a silent shake of the head, “but seriously, why didn’t you go?” “Why would I leave my brother behind?” Nessie replies, glancing over her shoulder at the man, thinking nothing of the question. “Because you’re not the only person that can look after him” Jack replies, one hand cradling the handle to his screwdriver, whilst his other rests in his pocket, “I think you already knew that.” Watching her step, Nessie continues to walk, no slower, nor faster, than before. “Are you trying to make a point?” Nessie replies, laying her mallet over the hood of a rundown car, “because, if so, you’re not doing a great job.” Slowly catching up, Jack occupies to seat beside Nessie, his face engulfed in the light of a midday sun. “I don’t think that’s because I lack a point to my question” Jack replies, resting against a shattered windshield, “I think you just don’t want to acknowledge it.” Quiet, Nessie turns toward Jack, waiting for him to continue. “Were your parents abusive?” Jack suddenly inquires, asking with no ounce of ignominy. “E- excuse me?” Nessie replies, the man’s unchanged expression becoming the source of an unreasonable anger. “You’re always there to protect him, and I mean always there” Jack replies, his eyes still shut, “you’re less his sister, and more like his mother. Logic would suggest that, for you to look over him like this, it’s cause someone else wasn’t.” Irate, Nessie presses her fingers together and slaps the man across the face before picking up her weapon and leaving. “I wasn’t implying you were an awful mother” Jack jokes, aware of the woman’s anger despite his lack of care over it. “What the fuck gives you the right to say that!?” Nessie shouts, flustered with an anger largely unlike her. “Does it matter?” Jack replies, rolling back to the ground before approaching the woman once more. “Yeah, it matters- to me!” Nessie exclaims, noticing the unapologetic demeanour Jack responds with. “Well, I’m so sorry I found a button of yours to poke” Jack replies, his own anger beginning to set in. “Do you think this is funny?” Nessie replies, tossing her mallet to the side as she walks up to Jack, visibly confrontational. “No, what I find hilarious is that I’d have the balls to tell my wife to leave for her own good, and you were too concerned with sheltering Clint from the world to make the same choice” Jack replies, anger turning into bitter rage. “It was my choice” Nessie replies, those four words the only ones she’s able to say before Jack interrupts. “And you made the wrong one!” Jack shouts back, quickly becoming more enraged than the woman who began the conflict, “everyone left except you! Why did everyone leave except you!?” “Because I chose to!” Nessie barks, watching Jack’s hands throw into the air as he walks away, de-escalating the conversation as quickly as it went off the rails. Leaving without his weapon, Nessie watches the man step off, seconds continuing to pass without him turning around. “What has gotten into you!?” Nessie exclaims, ushering the man back with the simple question. “What’s gotten into me!?” WHAT’S GOTTEN INTO ME!?” Jack shouts, returning the way he came as his anger consumes him. “What’s gotten into-!?” Jack barks once more, cutting himself off with an inaudible shout as he reaches the car, his body turning to the left as he winds his hand back, sending his fist through the intact driver’s window. “FUCK!” Jack yells, ripping his arm through the shattered glass in a wave of pain, its sensation taking over for the burst of anger. “Why did you do that!?” Nessie exclaims, the anger she’d felt rush through her body immediately turning into concern as she watches Jack drop to the ground. Refusing to answer, Jack groans as he wraps his palm around the open wound, the blood running down the side of his hand as Nessie kneels beside him. “Wrap this around it” the woman orders, her scarf spun over the man’s hand, “hold it tight.” “We’ve got a problem!” Clint shouts, running down the street from city hall as Franklin follows closely behind. “Little busy right now!” Nessie shouts back, preoccupied with tying the ends of her scarf together. “Jess is gone!” Franklin shouts, watching the pair turn toward him with wide eyes, his concern only growing. “What!?” Jack exclaims, pulling away from Nessie to regather himself. “We’ve looked everywhere- she’s not here!” Franklin replies, his heavy breaths turning to a frosty chill, “she’s gone.” | Rolling to a stop, the McKee’s truck halts outside of a large, blue-coloured home just below the top of a hill, it’s right occupied by a smaller home, and it’s left taken by the natural treeline it sits within. “This is your stop” Jade remarks, handing out copies of house keys to her now-former guests. The first to disembark the vehicle, Emilio steps to the hill’s edge, looking down at the spacious, two-family townhouse with a comforted expression. “You’re just giving this to us?” Angela replies, the next to approach the hill’s edge, “for free?” Reclaiming the passenger’s seat from Salem, Jade responds. “It may be hard to come by a six-bedroom house in this town, but I managed” the woman explains, hanging her hand out through the open window, “I don’t want any homeless around here.” “So, we just live our lives?” Alicia replies, watching Salem step down the hill without much of a reaction. “You get a job, you buy your goods, you pay your bills… It’s life as it was with a few updates” Jade replies, patting the side of her door as the truck begins to accelerate, “welcome home, boys and girls.” With that, the McKee’s exit just as they’d arrived, pleased with their introduction and ready to move on. “Something about this doesn’t feel good” Lauren whispers, the few seconds spent staring with surprise offering her time to reflect. “I feel the same thing” Emilio replies, both Alicia and Angela turning in his direction, “like this doesn’t feel right anymore.” Watching Salem disappear inside the left-most door, not a word more to offer than what she’s already given. “We’re just not used to this” Angela concludes, walking up to a garbage bin on the side of the road and discarding her knife in it, choosing to move forward, “it’ll get better” she vows, climbing down the hill and stepping through the right-most entrance. “It shouldn’t feel good” Alicia cuts in, standing between Emilio and Lauren, more hope within her response than the rest, “but I suppose that shouldn’t stop us.” Breaking off, Alicia descends the hill, following Salem into the eastern wing of the home. The last remaining, Lauren looks to Emilio uncomfortably, her expression saying what she can’t put into words. Giving in, Lauren follows the group’s lead, climbing down the hill and leading herself into the eastern wing as Emilio watches, unsure of how to respond. “You’re new” an unfamiliarly feminine voice remarks, jogging toward him in a light jacket and performance shorts. “Yeah, we just got here” Emilio replies, retreating to a friendly greeting, his hand extended with a smile as if the world never changed. “I’m Emilio” the man introduces himself, feeling the woman’s warm hand find his own. “Anastasia, but my friends call me ‘Annie’” the woman replies, quick to stop and move on, “I’ve gotta get home before I convince myself to take a break- but, uh, welcome to the neighbourhood!” “Yeah- yeah, thanks” Emilio replies, watching the woman leave as she arrives, his concerns melting like the snow that puddles along the ground. His smile still present, Emilio takes his attention back to the home, its many windows illuminating one after the other, his group challenging the claims of electricity. Bowing his head, Emilio convinces himself to descend the hill and follow the order, retreating to the comfort of the right-most door, and closing it on his way inside. == Rise == Atop city hall’s split staircase and below the narrower second flight of steps, a campfire roars into the night, set up in the landing space that divides the troubled group in half. Only the fire to warm them, the union sits separately, huddled beneath their own coats, and their company shared with themselves. “Are we really gonna spend the night not talking to each other?” Angela mumbles, most fire-lit faces turning in her direction, whilst hers remains cemented upon the building’s depths.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Alicia replies, sat near the bottom of the right-most staircase, wrapped in a thin blanket, “it’s just another night.” Her eyes pressing shut, Angela presses her lips together as the mug in her hand is guided toward a lower step. “Pretending we haven’t been thrown a curveball yet isn’t going to make it true” Angela replies, pressing the small of her back against the lowest, left-most, marble stair, “it won’t make us feel better, either.” “Are you suggesting we go around the room and voice our concerns?” Jess wonders aloud, her back pressed against a carved-out bannister a few steps above Angela, no fleeting emotion to offer. “I’m suggesting we acknowledge the offer on the table” Angela corrects, earning a muffled laugh from the opposite step. “You were one of the people invited” Nessie replies, sat upon the highest of the right-most staircase, a jean jacket over her shoulders, “it’s easy for you to talk about.” “Splitting up into teams isn’t going to solve anything either” Emilio interjects, nipping the division he can sense brewing in the bud, “if nothing else, it’ll just drive a wedge between us.” Standing against the marble wall between both sets of parting stairs, Emilio’s eyes drift from one side of the camp to the other, watching the attention fall upon him. “I don’t like the idea, and I’m not in favour of splitting up” Angela clarifies, using the calming air to justify herself, “but we should put aside what is asked of us to obtain it, and recognise it for what it is.” Understanding his position, Emilio turns his head toward Angela, offering her the floor with a nod, one the woman comprehends immediately. “If Nova Scotia is exactly as Jade makes it sound like, this is the chance we’ve spent years begging for” Angela explains, panning her eyes over each member of the group, “it’s the first step in getting our old lives back.” “After everything we’ve seen, is going back to the way things were a good thing?” Salem replies, resting her rifle’s stock on the floor, and letting it sway from one hand to the other. “If Nova Scotia is as Jade makes it sound- yes” Angela replies, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jacket, “we’ve all faced our own hells, but none of those make falling asleep without the fear of being chomped on or robbed any less worthwhile.” “Can we not pretend like this is an automatic ticket to Nova Scotia?” Katie inquires, laid on her back at the highest point of the left-most staircase, her hands folded on her stomach, “it’s another Sheol with the possibility of turning into a Sun City- just better.” “It’s also been the ‘M.O’ since I met you” Angela replies, watching Katie’s head roll toward the side, looking down on her from above. “The minute I met you, the whole plan was ‘North Dumpling Island, live there until we die’. That was the whole point!” Angela continues, her voice slightly louder than before, “we had no boat, no food, no plan, no shelter- nothing! But the end goal was always the same- find a place to settle down and make a new life in.” “It didn’t work out well, did it?” Franklin interjects, sat one stair above Alicia, and one stair below Salem on the right-most steps. “In fairness, we had no food and didn’t know our adversaries as well as we thought” Lauren replies, sitting a few steps above Angela on the right-most stair, “but I do see your point.” “We all see both points” Emilio corrects, hearing Jack’s footsteps grow closer as he returns from the building’s lowest level, “we know what we stand to gain, and we know what we stand to lose.” The bottoms of his boots tapping along the marble floors, Jack ascends the lower staircase with the shattered remains of a wooden chair, its legs, arms, and fabric-covered seat thrown from his hands and into the central fire. “I’m heading out for a couple of hours” Jack announces, quickly turning his gaze upon Lauren, “come with me?” Not needing a moment to think, Lauren stands from her seat and follows Jack down the stairs, his departure coming without another word. “Speaking of which, the city should be in enough of a condition for deer to be wandering” Salem cuts in, standing out of her seat with her rifle in tow, “I might be able to come back with some breakfast.” Her rifle laid on the floor to her side, Katie stares toward the ceiling, quietly engaging in her inner thoughts. “I’ll go with you” the improved sniper suddenly mutters, taking a hold of her rifle as she sits up, patting Emilio on the arm as she hurries to catch up to the departing woman. Standing from his seat, Franklin climbs down a step and extends his hand to Alicia, not saying a word as he bobs his head toward the building’s exit. Looking up, Alicia looks at the man’s hand for a moment before taking it, giving Emilio a nod before walking away without a word, leaving behind those that remain. Letting out a deep exhale, Angela stares around the room, realising all that remains are the group’s crumbs, some of whom on the cusp of new life, the rest forced to venture elsewhere. “And then there were five” Angela remarks, turning her body on the step to extend her legs outward, letting her back rest against a wall. “Then there were five” Emilio repeats beneath his breath, falling back to his lean against the back wall, both hands held behind himself = Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 3 onwards = “You’d think there’d more than just a few stragglers here, wouldn’t you?” Katie wonders aloud, crushing tall grass beneath the weight of every step. “I don’t know what to expect from the dead anymore” Salem replies, leading the quest toward the Providence River. “If I’m being honest, I don’t think of the dead as the threat at all anymore- they’re just minor inconveniences” Salem confesses, beginning to step upon broken glass hidden within the overgrowth, “it’s the people I look out for.” Climbing through the shattered windows of what now lies as a once office centre now shielded by the husk of a skyscraper, Katie and Salem advance upon the rear stairwell. “What’s your spin on the offer-situation?” Katie inquires, following her mentor up the concrete-encased stairwell. “I think it’s a waste of time to talk about” Salem replies, each step sending a metallic ring through the slim, tall enclosed box, “some will go, some won’t. What more is there to talk about?” “There’s plenty to talk about, it’s just a matter of whether we want to talk about them” Katie replies, following the woman out of the concrete column and onto a higher floor. “Like what?” Salem replies, unsheathing a knife from her hip before ploughing it into the crown of a straggling corpse’s skull, “what’s the ‘plenty’ we have to talk about?” Her own knife in hand, Katie continues the conversation whilst surveying the level. “A good start would be talking about which camp you fall into” Katie replies, panning a flashlight into dark rooms and the cracks of partially-opened doors. “I don’t care to think about it” Salem replies, cautiously approaching the river-facing side of the complex. “I went with Alicia and Franklin to Concord reluctantly, and I went to New York out of necessity” Salem explains, picking a window to kneel beside, “I’ve gotten more attached to this group than I wanted to. Since some are going to leave and others will stay, I don’t particularly like either option.” “Then why not choose the more favourable of the choices?” Katie replies, pushing random office doors open with her elbow. “Because I don’t think this is a group if it’s fractured in two- it’s just what’s left” Salem replies, slowly rolling the glass panel outward, “it’s like two broken homes, why bother choosing one when it’s no different from sleeping out in the backyard?” Confident in her inspection, Katie pulls back toward Salem, watching the woman prepare her rifle along the windowsill. “Because eventually, it’s gonna start to rain” Katie replies, pressing her shoulder against the concrete wall separating each window from the other, “and, while not completely optimal, at least a broken home will put a roof over your head.” Peering out at the other side of the river, Salem presses her eye against the scope as she waits for the world to turn in her favour. “What if the reason that home is broken is because there’s no roof?” Salem replies, gently pressing her left eye shut, “then all I’ll have left is a box that slowly fills with water until I drown.” Letting her eyes fall, Katie begins to strap gloves over her cold hands, allowing Salem to pursue an answer. “I’m still waiting” Salem remarks, only judging the silence for what it appears to her as. “Then you keep yourself afloat until you reach the top” Katie replies, keeping a smile at bay as she takes her eyes toward the pleasant view of the streets below, “ride the surface until it takes you over the edge.” Taking a few seconds to form her rebuttal, Salem watches a white-tailed deer prance out from a thick set of bushes, the distance between the hunter and the hunted covered by a small, civilian bridge. “Then the rain will continue to pour” Salem replies, steadying her aim on the unassuming creature, waiting for it to stop for her shot to present itself, “and before you know it, the rest of the world is starting to fill.” Staring off at the larger body of water close by, the deer begins to lower its head, picking at the vegetation surrounding him. Her breath steady, Salem slowly guides her finger to the trigger, pausing her shot until Katie’s response concludes. “Then the water will never stop and nothing matters” the woman’s shadow replies, watching the woman prepare for her shot, “the world will just fill until you drown anyway, so there’s no point in any of it.” Her eye falling away from the scope, Salem allows Katie’s response to sit with her, digesting as her crosshair slowly pulls upward, steadying on the farther treeline. Still silent, Salem glances back toward her scope, finding the absence in her line of sight for a few seconds before the deer’s head suddenly pops back up, its left eye directly in the centre of her crosshair. “Take the shot” Katie whispers, watching Salem turn toward her, visibly rattled by the woman’s earlier claim. “It’s yours to take” Katie reiterates, her head nodding toward the deer, “take it.” Her lips pressing together, Salem lets a breath leave her lungs as she stares back into the sight, the deer’s head still in line, perfectly offering her the chance to squeeze the trigger. | “I’ve got him” Lauren remarks, walking ahead of Jack with a sharpened walking stick in her possession. Attracted to the woman’s voice, a corpse pulls away from the diner it had ventured toward, taking notice of Lauren’s presence. With little issue, Lauren drives her weapon through the corpse’s eye socket and guides it to the ground, a smile worn on her face as she does so. “You’re a natural at that” Jack quips, triggering the shopkeeper’s bell as he strolls through the diner’s entry. “I’ve had my moments” Lauren jokes back, following the man into a spacious, yet eerily silent dining room, barely illuminated by the flashlights in their grasp. “Sorry, are you closed!?” Jack bellows aloud, sarcastically up-in-arms over the lack of a response, “this is some terrible customer service, and I demand to see a manager!” “I don’t think we came here for breakfast, hun’” Lauren replies, patting the man on the back as she turns toward the booths, a sudden question popping into her head, “wait, why did we come here?” Laughing with a gust of air through his nose, Jack unsheathes a solar powered lantern from his belt loop and leaves it to rest upon the closest booth. “Sit with me?” Jack asks, sliding down the length of his seat as Lauren takes him up on the offer, joining beside him. “I seriously doubt anyone’s coming to take our order” Lauren again jokes, comforted by Jack’s ubiety. “Yeah, we didn’t come here to eat” Jack replies, folding his hands atop the table as he looks into Lauren’s eyes, the loving look Lauren’s accustomed to receiving in these moments replaced with something unfamiliarly genuine, even from Jack’s perspective Pained as much as he is relieved, Jack tries to present the woman with a smile, but his struggle to do so only shows something less than happiness. The puzzle pieces beginning to fit, Lauren’s curious smile begins to fade, replaced by a look of disappointed awareness. Folding her hands atop the table beside Jack, Lauren fights to part her lips, keeping her sadness at bay as she tries to find the strength to speak. “You want me to take the offer” Lauren whispers, only able to muster a whimper-like voice as she looks into Jack’s eyes, “don’t you?” Slowing his breathing, Jack guides his coupled hands over Lauren’s, his girlfriend’s grasp flipping to take his palms into her own. “I can’t be the reason you throw this away” Jack replies, unabashedly allowing the tears to fall from his eyes as he responds. “Everyone in this group, even if we don’t want to admit it- everyone knows how important this is” Jack admits, squeezing Lauren’s hands harder, “we all just hate the circumstances involved with it.” Her head shaking, Lauren struggles to find the words to refuse, a struggle Jack pushes aside by recapturing her attention. “This is a chance to go back to the way things were- to have a life you were screwed out of getting the chance to live” Jack explains, “this is your ticket back.” Continuing to shake her head, Lauren pulls her eyes back toward Jack’s, attempting to speak through broken breaths. “I don’t think I want that life anymore” Lauren replies, trying to calm the emotions she feels built within her, “-you weren’t in it.” Bobbing his head, Jack fights to push his own emotions aside, riddled with an agony he’s gone years without. “I know. I want to go with you so badly but I can’t” Jack replies, standing firm in his decision, “and as much as this hurts me, I know I’ll never have to be afraid for you anymore. You’ll be safe.” Her head again shaking, Lauren continues to fight a battle she’s aware she stands no chance of winning. “I’m safe here. I’m safe now” Lauren replies, watching Jack take his turn to shake his head. “But you’ll never get to truly be alive, and that’s the point” Jack replies, no less adamant than when he entered the diner, “they can offer you that in a way I’ll never be able to.” Almost masochistically, Lauren continues to argue her point, no more ground gained than what she’d walked in with. “I don’t need anything they can offer me” Lauren replies, “and if they can’t offer me you, none of their offers are worth anything.” Arguing for Lauren’s acceptance, Jack persists. “Do you remember what Angela said yesterday?” Jack wonders, finally forcing a painful smile over his face, “she said ‘being alive was the most important thing’ and Jade argued that being alive wasn’t worth anything without safety, and care, and a home, and the rest!” Their coupled hands falling into the space on the booth between them, Jack finishes his point. “Jade was right- you can’t honestly have one without the other” the man explains, a tear falling upon his knuckles as it runs from his cheek, “I can try to offer you everything, but you’d never get the chance to fully be alive.” “I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you” Lauren replies, unashamed to acknowledge her greatest lows, “if we’re judging the most important factors for me, nothing’s higher on that list than you.” Bowing his head, Jack holds down the grief he feels kicking up. “Then take the offer I made it possible for you to get the chance to have” the man replies, doing what he feels is right on the back of Lauren’s claims, “this is what we’ve waited for… The chance is here for you to take.” Caught by surprise at the sense of something small being dropped into her palm, Lauren slides her hand out from within Jack’s, where a ring rests just below her thumb. “The world ended to bring us together” Jack whispers, reclaiming the ring as he slides it over her finger, retaking her hand as their eyes lock again, “when the time comes, it’ll bring us together again.” | Handcuffed to the door of a car and heavily devoured, a trapped zombie earns the remorse of an aggravated Alicia, who drives her handcrafted spear through its eye socket. “You want me to go?” Alicia aggravatedly remarks, watching the sky begin to lighten as a new morning dawns. “I think you should, yeah” Franklin replies, calmly following the woman through the once-busy streets of downtown Providence. Her head shaking, almost as if she can’t believe what’s asked of her, Alicia walks away, angrily storming over tall grass with no destination in mind. “I don’t like it either, but I can’t deny what you’d be missing out on” Franklin replies, continuing to watch the woman march on, “this is the only real shot we’ve ever had at ‘getting back to normal’, even if not all of us can get there.” “What makes you think I want things to go back to normal!?” Alicia turns back, her words bouncing through the narrow streets as she shouts in a fit of anger. “Because you do, just like we all do” Franklin replies, slightly raising his voice closer to a yell, “and if we were all given the chance, we’d already be in Jade’s truck.” “Exactly! That’s the point!” Alicia shouts, her frustrations only continuing to simmer, “we weren’t all given a chance, so what’s the point in taking it!?” Falling silent, Franklin strolls up to the corpse-chained car and sits upon its hood, patting the spot beside him for Alicia to occupy. Her anger brushed aside, Alicia turns back, taking the spot beside the man. “Even if we don’t all get the invitation, some of us do” Franklin replies, resting his hand on the woman’s thigh, “if you all decline, we all lose out. But if you all go, at least some of us will get to win. Even if we aren’t happy about missing out, it’d be selfish not to want you all to win.” “Even if I win this, I lose you” Alicia replies, tracing the veins in the man’s thigh-rested hand with her finger, “and if I lose you- I just lose.” Letting out a laugh, Franklin places his second hand over Alicia’s own, shaking his head with a charming grin. “No, you don’t. You win for the both of us” Franklin replies, pressing his lips against Alicia’s own for a quick kiss. As their lips part, Alicia loses herself looking into Franklin’s face, fixated by a sudden sense of comfort amidst fearful times. Pressing her lips back against Franklin, Alicia keeps the kiss going, returning her lips to the man’s own each time a new kiss breaks. | “Very clean shot” Katie remarks, the rifle draped over her back as she follows Salem over the grass where her dead deer rests. “I’ve got a lot of those” Salem replies, wrapping twine around the deceased animal’s rear legs as Katie watches, her hands tucked into her pockets. The air silent, Salem wraps the restraints around the animal while Katie stands by, waiting for the next set of words to leave Salem’s lips. “How’d you do it?” Salem inquires, her teeth grating against the twine until it snaps, allowing her to tie off the loose ends. “You’ve always been the first person to listen to reason for as long as I’ve known you” Katie answers, her head hanging closer to the ground as Salem begins on the front legs, “I just needed you to listen to reason again.” Struggling to find the words to respond, Salem remains quiet, again using her teeth to split the rope. “I’m not good with this kind of thing” Salem mutters beneath her breath, just loud enough for Katie’s ears to catch. “I’ve never liked goodbyes, either” Katie responds, watching as Salem hoists the buck over her shoulders, her fingers wrapping around both legs as their faces take to each other’s. “If I’m being honest with myself, part of the reason I came out here was to avoid saying goodbye to the others” Katie explains, slowly removing the rubber gloves from her hands. “I don’t care who does, or doesn’t, go. I just wish the best for everyone involved” Katie explains, her gloves tucked into her back pocket as she looks back to her mentor, forced to squint as the sun begins to rise over Salem’s back, “give them my best, will you?” A gut wrenching feeling of sadness rupturing deep within her core, Salem silently nods to Katie, who flashes the woman a grin. Emotional without needing to shed tears, Katie’s eyes wander toward the distance, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not John’s ‘right-hand’ anymore, and I’m not Troy’s sister anymore” Katie comes to the acceptance of whilst letting a sigh leave her lungs, “I think- maybe- it’s time I find out.” Nodding as she presses her tongue to the corner of her lip, Salem remains quiet, settling for the first thing that comes to mind. “I didn’t expect this to be a ‘goodbye’ from both of us” Salem remarks, watching the younger woman look at her with a smile of her own. “It’s not a goodbye” Katie replies, beginning to walk backward from the way she and Salem had arrived, “it's ‘good luck’ and ‘see you again someday’.” Turning her body in the direction she walks, Katie proceeds to stroll away, her mentor watching her depart until her figure is no longer visible. | “I got it” Angela remarks, stepping through city hall’s entrance as Emilio strolls through the front door, carrying a large car seat up toward the fire pit as Angela drives her knife into the side of an undead skull. “Why would she just walk off?’” Clint queries, watching Salem skin her catch in preparation for dinner. “I didn’t bother to question her” Salem replies, dropping a chunk of bloody fur onto the floor, “she wanted to leave, and I wasn’t going to make her stay.” “And then there were four” Nessie murmurs, watching Alicia and Franklin step through the building’s front doors. “Well, maybe five” Clint jokes, alluding to the shirt Alicia now wears inside out, “are condoms and birth control an easy thing to come by nowadays?” Her eyes rolling, Alicia walks up to Clint and flicks her finger against the man’s forehead. Watching the car seat burn in a sea of flames, Alicia gives her answer. “If none of us go, we all lose- but if some of us go, we all win” Alicia remarks, turning her sights on the man with the curly hair and rough beard she looks to as the leader, “I’m going.” Quiet, Emilio gives the woman a nod before turning away, climbing the left-most staircase without a word. “If the two of you are going, then I am too” Angela replies, climbing the stairs to rejoin the group beside the fire. “Then I wish the three of you luck” Nessie replies, slouching back against the marble stair, “I’m not going anywhere.” Allowing the conversation to unfold without him, Emilio begins to journey through the dark confines of the building, feeling a sense of loneliness despite the ongoing conversation behind him. The menacing interior poorly lit, only darkness faces him, a lightless, blank void with nothing to say for itself. “They need you” Jess’ voice remarks, the woman’s frame hiding within the shadows as if she were speaking on their behalf. Turning to where the voice sounds to be coming from, Emilio follows it to the source. “They don’t need me” Emilio replies, carefully stepping forward, one foot placed before the other, “they need each other more than they need me.” “And look how that’s working out” Jess replies, her voice staying low to the ground, “they’re dropping like flies without needing to die. That’s not what leaving is- that’s abandonment.” Pressing his hand against a smooth, glossy wall, Emilio presses his back against it and slides to the ground, occupying the seat beside Jess, who claims residency over the floor, cold and alone. “They’re choosing to live” Jess replies, her voice sad in nature, but empty when presented up close, a withered husk of someone that used to feel life as it was intended. “You keep saying you’re not the leader, but that doesn’t explain why you’re so hush to the topic” Jess confides, turning her head toward Emilio’s, “why aren’t you choosing to live?” Her breath colliding with the side of his face, Emilio turns to look toward the woman, his chest heavy as if weighed by burden. “Why aren’t you choosing to live?” Emilio counters, unable to watch the woman’s face turn away, no expression in her expression, “you were given the same questions. Even if you didn’t know what you were answering for, you were the only one that threw their choice away.” Enough breath being blown through her nose to be mistaken for a laugh, Jess presses the back of her head against the wall. “A man walked into our lives, murdered my husband, and murdered my child” Jess replies, returning her face toward Emilio’s, “and, in doing that, he murdered me.” Waiting for a response, Jess turns away, staring off into the darkness once more. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose a child” Emilio replies, pressing his own head against the wall, “but I do know what it’s like to lose a husband.” Taking a strong dislike to the conversation she anticipates being started, Jess closes her mouth and lets Emilio speak anyway. “I’m not the same man I was before Bill died, and I’ll never claim to be. But I’m stronger than I was, and I don’t know if that would have been possible if he were still here” Emilio explains, unsure of Jess’ reaction, “and, in time, you will be too.” Remaining silent, Jess lets the conversation die there, keeping quiet until Emilio gets up to leave. “You should go with them” Jess suddenly remarks, waiting for Emilio to walk a few steps away before doing so, “choose life.” Staring in Jess’ direction for a few seconds, Emilio turns away in silence, leaving the void to return to the campfire. | “Do you think they’re coming?” Archie wonders, standing beside the driver’s door as Isaac occupies the backseat. “This is one of the rare times where I honestly don’t know” Jade replies, turning her head toward Oliver with a smile, “it’s exciting.” As the sun begins to lower over the nearest set of towers, a fleet of people emerge from the street below, their minimal belongings carried in tow. “I won’t bother calling out names, you already know who you are” Jade remarks, releasing the tailgate from its restraints, “everyone coming along climb aboard, those that chooses not to- don’t dirty the truckbed.” Maintaining her distance, Nessie folds her arms and keeps to the rear of the group, watching the rest of the survivors interact accordingly. “We’ll find each other again” Jack whispers, placing his hands to each side of Lauren’s head as they share a kiss, “I promise.” Pulling each other into an embrace, Jack parts his arms to keep himself from changing his mind, allowing Lauren to deviate from the pack. “I’m gonna miss you” Alicia whispers, pulling out of her embrace with Franklin. “I’m gonna miss you, too” the man replies, watching Alicia board the back of the pickup. “I call shotgun!” Salem exclaims, strolling around the side of the vehicle as Angela climbs into the back, not a further scene made. “Well, I’m certainly not gonna argue with her over that” Jade replies through humour and a slight fear, only one answer left to hear. “Is that all we’re taking?” the woman exclaims, loud enough for the entire group to hear, though her eyes take to only one man in particular. His hands tucked into his pockets, Emilio looks up at Jade, the woman’s hands coupled at her lap as her bold eyes anxiously await his answer. Taking a glance in Jess’ direction, Emilio tilts his head to the side, as if to ask the woman for her blessing. With a shrug, Jess gestures the decision back to him, satisfied with the argument she’s made. Letting out a sigh, Emilio gives the group a nod before turning to the truck and climbing aboard, the choice putting a slight smile over Jade’s face. “And then- there were five” Jade replies, reaching down to shut the tailgate before settling into the truck bed, letting the day die in preparation for a new one. As her brothers enter the vehicle, Jade turns her face toward the group, a pleased look worn on her face with pride. “You all made a very good decision” Jade remarks, feeling the vehicle jolt forward as it begins the long drive back home, “welcome to Cumberland.” With that, Jade goes silent, staring off at the fine work nature’s done to the city while her passengers watch their group grow farther away. Keeping his head forward, Emilio looks down the road they’ve yet to cover when something catches his eye. Standing out from his seat, Emilio unsheathes an axe from his belt as he presses his foot against the truck’s side, watching a single corpse stumble toward the vehicle. “You don’t need to worry about those anymore” Jade comments, watching the man look her in the eyes with doubt. Without a word, Emilio winds his arm back and slices through the corpse’s skull, spilling fragments of decomposed matter over the dead grass before settling back down in silence. == Rise == “So- here’s what I know about you” Jade remarks, taking the notebook held out from her brother’s hand, “your name is Emilio, you’re hispanic, you were a politician before the world ended, and you’re the group’s leader.”
“No” Emilio quickly replies, his calm voice flustered by the bitter chill of the air, allowing his responses to come off with a slight growl. “No what?” Jade queries, her lips parting slightly to present the man her pearly whites. “I’m not the group’s leader” Emilio replies, watching the woman proceed with a bemused reaction. ‘You- you’re not-?” Jade stammers, eventually turning back toward the rest of the group, inspecting her prisoners, “who’s in charge here?” “There is no leader” Emilio replies, his intense stare giving Jade a unique impression. “That’s- odd” Jade replies, folding her arms over her lap as she looks back toward the pile, still unable to discern one strong-appearing figure from the rest. Allowing herself to truly get a look at those off to her side, Jade’s eyes finally lock onto a woman near the group’s front. “That’s fine, we’ll call an audible” Jade replies, pointing her finger toward Alicia, “let’s save Emilio for last, and start with the brunette.” Staring into Isaac’s eyes as the man approaches him with a roll of duct tape and some rope, Emilio complies with Jade’s orders in hopes of establishing good faith. As his wrists are bound and his mouth is covered, Emilio watches Jade gently remove the strip of duct tape over Alicia’s mouth and lead her toward the newly-vacated seat. “If you wanted to sit us down for interviews, you could have done so with fewer guns” Alicia remarks, watching Jade’s eyes light up at the suggestion. “We’re severely outnumbered and know nothing about you” Jade replies, crossing one leg over the other as she settles back into her seat, “you could have cooperated as easily as you could have slaughtered us.” The air growing calm, Jade and Alicia sit in utter silence, the latter-woman’s group serving as a captive audience. “That said, the past is in the past. The only objective from here is to find out if we can co-exist” Jade explains, pressing her thumb upon a blue pen’s nose cone in preparation to take notes, “and that’s exactly what I’m here to do. So, start with your name, your age, and the job you had prior to the apocalypse, please.” = Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 3 onwards = / Alicia / “Alicia Haven, 30, and I was studying for my master’s degree” the woman replies, immediately sparking interest from the woman before her. “Did you have a job on the side?” Jade inquires, scrawling upon the paper in her lap. “I was a judo instructor for a few months. I worked on weekdays” Alicia replies, her hands folded in her lap, her back pressing against the chair. “Does your judo bring anything of value- perhaps in combat?” Jade proceeds to wonder aloud, watching Alicia’s face light up like Christmas decor. “Is that you volunteering to find out?” Alicia replies, a question that Jade answers with raised hands. “Not in a million years- I’ll take your word for it” the still-unfamiliar woman replies, settling back into the web of questions she seeks to spin. “Since the zombies came around, have you done anything purposefully bad?” Jade questions, her head slightly tilting to the side, “something you knew was wrong before you did it, but did anyway?” Her lips pressed together, Alicia begins to stare off at the distant corners of the room, her head gradually beginning to shake in refusal. “No, not that I-” Alicia begins to reply, suddenly stopping herself before she can have the chance to finish, “I- no, not really.” Her pen’s cone rising up to her bottom lip, Jade cracks another smile, this one more contained than the last. “Not really is- ironically enough- not really a good enough answer to that question.” Struggling to find a response, Alicia’s eyes trail across the room, bouncing from one side to the other before falling to her lap, the knuckles of her thumb arched toward her face. “Whatever it is, you’re better off telling me than not” Jade explains, swiping loose hairs away from her eyes, “it’s a simple question. If you have a hard time answering it, I’ll make my own assumptions. That wouldn’t be fair to you, and that’s not what I want to do.” Her knuckles tapping together as her leg begins to anxiously bounce, Alicia’s eyes begin to wander back to the mass huddle to her left, Franklin’s confident nod giving her the comfort to set her reluctance aside. “We’ll move on” Jade begins to speak, running her pinky finger down the pages of her notes, “what were the initial-?” “I sided with a bad person to spite my friends” Alicia interjects, answering the prior question to her boyfriend’s delight, “I knew it was the wrong move, but I made it.” Intrigued, Jade closes her once-parted lips, her hand waving forward to offer Alicia the space to continue. “Salem, Franklin and I were on the road a lot during the first few weeks of the outbreak” Alicia recalls, repeatedly glancing in her friend’s general vicinity, “we decided to settle down at a place in Concord.” “That sounds peaceful” Jade replies, her voice dropping a few tones as she mingles with common ground. “It was. It was a quiet little town for the most part. But, when you’re around new people, sometimes you forget about the old ones” Alicia remarks, the look on her face speaking to her disappointment, “I was the odd one out.” With a nod, Jade remains silent, sitting back in her chair whilst Alicia’s head tilts toward the ground. “It took so much to get us on the same page, and- in such a short amount of time, we were on totally different books” the woman continues, beginning to feel a lump grow in her throat. “I felt like they forgot I existed, and just kept it that way” Alicia speaks with distressed breath. “And did they?” Jade proceeds, watching Alicia look up to her, sharing eye contact without the reluctance she’d recently held in abundance. “Yeah” Alicia replies in almost a whisper, no tears to spare, though holding the look of a withered soul, “and I couldn’t- I- I didn’t know how to be alone at the time.” “So you looked for comfort from someone else” Jade replies, filling in the hole she knows required maintenance. “I did” Alicia responds, keeping the disappointed look as she nods her head, “and I knew, somewhere deep down, that the man was- that he was not as what he wanted people to believe he was. I didn’t let myself see it, and it could have ended- everything.” | / Franklin / “The initial days of the outbreak- what were they like?” Jade inquires, rolling her eyes over the much larger man across from her, especially fixated on the metal covering over his shortened arm. “I’m not really sure anymore. It wasn’t long after I lost my arm that we were on the road” Franklin replies, visibly starved for clarity, “I just remember a lot of pain, and a lot of driving.” “Just tell me what you remember” Jade replies, her voice becoming more soothing as the day passes by, plenty of sunlight left to burn beneath the veil of curiosity, “I’ll take whatever you can offer.” His lips pressing together, Franklin begins to bow his head, letting out a few deep breaths as fights for memories. “I remember getting bit by John’s neighbour, and I remember Salem chopping my arm off” Franklin replies, drawing Jade’s pupils to the corner of her eye, where the larger group sits. “I remember a bunch of cars rolling up to the house, and I remember there being a panic” Franklin continues, again beginning to struggle. “I remember the dead showed up, I remember a helicopter going down, and I remember running through the forest” Franklin concludes, finally pulling his eyes up at Jade. “That’s all I remember” Franklin assures, letting his metal-covered nub fall to his side, draping off his thigh. Her eyes kept on the large man, Jade’s expression starts to twist from understanding to distrustful, the grin she hides beneath her purple-coloured lips beginning to show itself. “Why’d you look away from me?” Jade suddenly inquires, having noticed his eyes wander to the obscure corners of the room. “You looked away from me when you said ‘that’s all I remember’” Jade repeats, trying to hide the grin she’d allowed her face to wear, “almost as if you weren’t being honest with me.” His mouth open without the words to speak, Franklin shakes his head, uncharacteristically struggling to reply. “I can’t trust you if you won’t be honest with me, Franklin” Jade advises, folding her arms above the notebook as if the need to take notes were no longer necessary, “that kind of defeats the whole point of trust.” With no expression, Franklin stares forward for another few seconds, maintaining his confident posture before surrendering to reason. His chin lowering, Franklin’s eyes take to the back of his hand, its palm resting on his kneecap. “I do remember a few other things” Franklin replies, an obvious look of disenchantment worn. Without another word, Franklin’s eyes trail back to the group, his focus finding its way to Salem, who nods to him, as if she were offering her blessing. | / Salem / “I know I’ve got a checklist of questions to answer, but I feel the need to go off course with you” Jade proclaims, closing her notebook and laying it aside as she looks into Salem’s eyes. “I must be fascinating” Salem responds with almost no emotion, anger or happiness replaced with absolute nothingness, something that Jade takes humour from. “If I’m being honest, you are” the raven-haired woman replies, “you strike me as both a genius and a maniac. I love it.” Leaning back in her seat, unphased, Salem crosses her arms, waiting for Jade to push the conversation along. “From what I’ve heard, you were the person that decided to remove Franklin’s arm” Jade remarks, pressing her chest forward as she leans on her lap, an eager look in her eyes, “what convinced you to do that?” “I did what felt right in the moment” Salem replies, her arms remaining crossed, guard remaining intact, and statements consisting of a persistent lack of empathy. “Why did it feel right?” Jade replies, aware of the distrust Salem has for her, and attempting to work around it. “It just did” Salem responds, sucking on her teeth for a moment, “that’s just how it works, isn’t it? We’re all humans. We do what’s in our best interest to survive.” Again enthused to the point of cracking a smile, Jade lets the pen roll from her finger, joining her notebook on the ground. “How about threatening to put down Franklin in the woods?” Jade follows, balling her hand beneath her chin for support, “what convinced you to do that?” “I did what felt right in the moment” Salem replies, her arms still crossed, guard no less raised than before, and perpetually void of emotion. “Why did it feel right in the moment?” Jade questions, continuing the repetitive cycle with glee, simply enamoured by the great amount of distance the woman’s established despite being mere feet away. “He was slow, the dead were at our heels, and I couldn’t guarantee he’d live” Salem replies, stone-faced and unremorseful, “it just felt right.” “So you were willing to save a man’s life because you could, and you were willing to take that same man’s life because you needed to” Jade replies, shaking her head with a smile. Silently staring, Jade’s eyes aim intensely into Salem’s face, waiting for the faint, almost impossible to spot, spurt of emotion that simply never arrives. “Would you do it again?” Jade finally asks, making up for the lack of depth in Salem’s answers by digging into their foundation herself. “Yes, I’d save his life again” Salem replies, immediately earning Jade’s ardent opposition. “No, no-” Jade remarks, waving her hands at the woman in an effort to correct herself, “would you put that rifle to his head again?” Her face unchanged, Salem remains silent for a few seconds, saying a lot within the momentary pause. “I value the friendship we have now” Salem replies, her response earning laughter from Jade the moment it’s spoken. “For a start, that’s not a yes or a no” Jade explains, silencing the laughter she’s flooded the room with, “if faced with the same situation, and you didn’t have that bond, would you, barring interference, kill him?” Straight-laced, Salem takes no time in responding. “Yes” Salem replies, surprising those she shares the room with, both in Jade’s group and her own, “if we didn’t have that friendship, I would choose what felt right. If it felt right then, it would feel right now.” Covering the smile on her face with her hands, Jade muffles a giggle as she leans back, returning to the chair’s frigid embrace. “That is cold-fucking-blooded” Jade remarks, shaking her head with a worrying delight. | / Jessica / Slouched in her chair, each hand draped over one leg respectively and her head hung to the floor, Jess waits for her turn to be over. “Do you remember what you were doing during the initial days of the outbreak?” Jade inquires, sitting with one leg draped over the other, the notebook and pen ready to be put into use. “No comment” Jess replies, never once raising her eyes in Jade’s direction. “Did you ever knowingly do something bad?” Jade follows, puckering her lips as she searches for clarification, “maybe around the start of things, maybe recently?” Opening her mouth to suck in a deep breath, Jess answers mid-exhale. “No comment” the woman replies, the once-blonde hair that falls over the side of her head beginning to naturally darken. “Alright” Jade mutters beneath her breath, taking another glance at her notebook while she plans her next move. “Do you understand that none of these answers are helping you?” Jade qualms, uncertain to the reason behind Jess’ demeanour. Her head turned to the side, Jess lets out another sigh as the expression on her face turns sickly, as if she were ill. “No comment” Jess replies again, finally beginning to irritate the pale-skinned woman on the other side of the room. “Without going too much into detail, I’m giving you a chance. I’m giving you a really good chance” Jade explains, her declaration offered with passion, “for your own sake, it’d be smart to make the most of it.” Her groggy posture slowly readjusting, Jess pulls her head up and stares into Jade’s eyes, the rest of her body remaining positioned as is. Her lips parting, Jess presses her back into the chair and responds. “No comment.” | / Katie / “We heard about a compound in New York, and set sail for Long Island when we reached the shore” Katie recalls, everything that came after colliding with already-spoken history. “And what toll did your brother’s death take on you?” Jade pursues, the mood beginning to die down. Previously content with answering the prior-asked questions, Katie becomes weary, overtaken by a sombre sensation. “I- I was angry” Katie replies, breaking the eye contact she’d sustained with Jade, “I wanted the people responsible to pay, and was hell-bent on making that happen.” Preparing another question, Jade hears her brother’s voice emerge from the far-off end of the room. “Did they pay?” Archie wonders, sitting on a dusty office chair with his shotgun held toward Katie’s group. Taking a moment to think, Katie’s head lowers, never having considered the question before. “Not as much as I wanted them to, no” Katie replies, her eyes filling with sadness as Jade attempts to speak again. “Has losing your brother ever actually dawned on you?” Jade digs, noticing a confusion in the woman’s face. “I get that you know he’s dead, and you don’t argue otherwise-” Jade clarifies, trying to phrase her question carefully, “-but has it ever settled in?” Glancing down, Katie’s face begins to sour, her lips parting a few inches as she sits in silence. “Not until now” Katie replies, this time avoiding eye contact with anything other than the floor, her heart falling in what feels like real time. | / Angela / “By the sound of it, you seem to be an extra piece to the puzzle that doesn’t quite fit” Jade comments, earning a laugh from her guest. “Most of the group was together by the time I showed up” Angela replies, unbothered by Jade’s assumption, “Clint and Nessie are siblings, so being the odd-one out seems fitting.” “Do you feel like the odd-one out?” Jade cuts in to ask, both feet now placed firmly on the ground, her body leaning against the right side of her chair. “I don’t think about it enough for it to matter” Angela replies, “I’m still alive and there are plenty who aren’t. That’s what matters.” Her hand now covering her chin, Jade lets the notebook in her lap slide off her thigh, coming to a rest at her hip. “Is that all that matters? Just being alive?” Jade challenges, unable to keep from squinting at the woman. “It’s not the only thing that matters, but I’d argue it’s the most important” Angela replies, drawing Jade closer toward a debate. “Is it more important than love?” Jade questions, watching Angela’s head nod. “It is more important than love” the younger woman responds, wasting little time to double down on her belief. “What about comfort, or friends, or a home? Or what about decency, or care, or compassion?” Jade disputes, not needing to wait long for her answer. “It’s more important than all of those” Angela replies, watching Jade process the response before feeling the need to explain herself. “I’m not saying any of those are unimportant, but I am saying they’re of lesser importance” Angela continues, coupling her hands together, “without being alive, you don’t have any of that anyway.” Not shy to defend her own stance, Jade offers her rebuttal. “If you didn’t have any of the rest, would being alive even be worth it?” the woman questions, savouring the conversation enough to lick her lips, “you certainly can’t have one without the other, but that can apply to both sides. So, in reality, can either truly exist without the other?” Holding onto her laughter, Angela tilts her head to the side, grazing her teeth with the tip of her tongue. “Are you implying we both win this round?” Angela inquires, watching the light reflect off Jade’s eyes as the tip of the woman’s pen is lifted to her bottom lip. “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it” Jade remarks, pressing her teeth upon the pencap’s hardened, plastic shell, “but who’s keeping score?” | / Clint / “So, your quirk is that you don’t kill?” Jade continues, immediately hesitant to believe the well-mannered man sat in front of her. “I doubt I’ll ever know, however long after someone comes back as one of the dead, whether or not there’s still a piece of them trapped in there” Clint replies, proudly wearing the Christian cross on his chest, “it would be against my religion to do otherwise.” “And your sister over there doesn’t share your religious views?” Jade counters, pointing her finger at the mouth-taped, rope-bound woman. “No” Clint replies, seated as if told to sit properly at gunpoint, “she thinks it’s silly.” “She’s not wrong” Jade mumbles, lowering her eyes to the notepad until her posture changes, a sudden realisation having dawned upon her. “Do we still have some shitheads chained up?” Jade turns to ask her brother, his silent retreat from the room giving the woman her answer. “You have other people here?” Clint worriedly voices, watching the woman look back to him with a grin. “Since you consider the zombies ‘people’, yes we do” Jade replies, allowing a silence to permeate throughout the room, the distant sound of chains unravelling providing music to her ears. “You-” Clint murmurs, stalling himself as snarls take over where the silence left off, growing closer the more Jade’s brother approaches. Groaning beneath her duct tape gag, Nessie struggles to free herself of the restraints on her hands, fighting for release as Isaac returns with a guest. “Aarrgghh!” the heavily-decayed corpse shrieks, immediately taking interest in the religious man across the room. “Good luck” Jade whispers, leaving her seat in favour of a distant corner, leaving Clint to prove his pacifistic claims. Releasing the corpse from his padded hand, Isaac watches Clint pull away from his seat, trying to maintain the distance established. Continuing to struggle, Nessie fails in her attempts at freedom, watching the corpse gain ground on her brother. Pushing his hands out at the rotten ghoul, Clint pushes the zombie to the ground and backs away, maintaining his distance in spite of the corpse. “This isn’t going to end until you kill it” Jade remarks, keeping tucked away as the corpse prepares for another go. Biding his time, Clint throws the bag of bones to the ground once more, regaining his distance as the undead body prepares for more. Handicapped, Nessie works with the restrictions she’s been given. Leaving her spot on the ground, the woman leaps over her peers and charges the impromptu battlefield, paying little mind to the armed enforcement holding their weapons toward her. Her timing perfect, Nessie rushes past her brother and stares down the sack of flesh, mouth still gagged and hands still tied at her lap. Throwing her shoulder forward, Nessie shoves the undead threat with enough force to send its skinny, deteriorating body through the nearest window and to the overgrowth-covered ground below. Fortunate enough to slam into a concrete wall, Nessie tumbles to the floor, spared from the same fate as the corpse she’d just sent dozens of floors below to the next life. Keeping Clint at bay with his shotgun, Isaac approaches Nessie, who pushes herself into a seat on the ground. “I think I’ve seen all I need to out of her” Jade exclaims, pleased with the display she’s been presented with. “As a matter of fact, I think I’ve seen all I need to out of both of them.” | / Jack / “I don’t like how vague you are” Jack expresses, watching the surprise roll upon Jade’s face. “Do you think I’d just be asking you questions for no reason?” Jade replies, no less surprised from the diversity that is her reception. “It doesn’t matter what the reason is. Big or small- it doesn’t matter” Jack replies, opting to lean forward in his seat, not shying away from confrontation, “if you want to trust us, we need to trust you. So far, you’ve done nothing to prove that last part.” Guiding her hand toward her armed brothers, Jade begs to differ. “I told you everyone would be unharmed if you cooperated” Jade replies, yet to conclude her argument, “told you I knew Courtney, I’ve given you a fair chance, what more-?” “A fair chance at what?” Jack replies, his head subtly bobbing, “you’re asking us questions, you’re digging into our lives and what we’ve been through. What is it all for? What chance are you giving us?” “Don’t you think that, if telling you what I was vetting you for wasn’t unimportant, I wouldn’t keep you all in suspense?” Jade retorts, letting out a brief chuckle, “this is supposed to be fair. If I made assumptions about your group, it wouldn’t be fair to you. If I gave you the reason behind these questions, it wouldn’t be fair to me. Is that clear enough for you?” “Clear and understandable are two completely different things” Jack replies, continuing to instigate the woman. “I guess you’ll have to figure out how to differentiate between the two then” Jade replies, hunching over to match the lean Jack presents. Their eyes level, Jade sets her notebook on the floor, taking the conversation from there. “Let’s move onto the next question” Jade suggests, reciting the query from memory. | / Lauren / “Would you be strong enough to kill a friend?” Jade wonders, now sat with the back of the chair pressing against her chest. “It would depend on the situation” Lauren replies, the answer coming off partially robotic, a result that compels the notebook-wielding lady. “Have you killed a friend before?” Jade re-questions, the answer she expects now drastically altered. “I killed my girlfriend a few years ago at this point, yeah” Lauren replies, hands tucked into her pockets. “Why did you do that?” Jade asks, her arms folded atop the chair’s back. “She knelt over me with a knife while I was asleep, so I shot her” Lauren answers, unafraid to share the truth, “I knew what she was planning, so I can’t plead self-defence. But yes, I have killed a friend.” “Why did she try to kill you?” Jade follows up, her curiosity spun the moment this revelation left Lauren’s lips. “I no longer believed in taking over a compound out of self-destructive anger” Lauren replies, unapologetic for any of it, “we had different outlooks on the future, and mine won.” Biting into her bottom lip, Jade ponders the potential for her next question before settling on something familiar. “Would you say you chose to kill her?” Jade inquires, watching Lauren think her choices over before getting comfortable with the answer. “I could have confronted her, and my hand could have been forced in a way where I could say ‘no’. At least, I assume that” Lauren replies, her head beginning to nod, “so yes, I chose to kill her.” | / Emilio / “You seem to be struggling to accept your power within this group” Jade examines, watching Emilio’s eyes roll as her overconfident tone bites at his ear. “Even if you don’t want to be seen as the leader, you need to recognize the sway you have here. You’d be foolish not to” Jade remarks, watching the man’s eyes subtly begin to take to her, somewhat invested in hearing what she has to say. “Your group will view you as their leader if they want to. They don’t need your approval to do that” Jade explains, setting her notebook aside, falling in favour of establishing a connection. “If you view something as fragile, they’ll walk carefully around whatever that ‘something’ is. If you say ‘jump’, you’ve got plenty of feet in the air. Say ‘duck’, and heads will lower” the woman continues, delivering her claim with an intoxicating assurance, “that power makes a difference.” “It’s power that isn’t mine to have” Emilio replies, instantly finding his argument to fall upon disagreeing ears. “It doesn’t matter if it’s yours to have- you have it regardless” Jade retorts, watching Emilio’s eyes roll away, reluctant to accept her findings. “People were made to follow, and few people were made to lead-” Jade explains, her voice lowering to a comforting, almost personal tone, “-but even fewer people were made to lead well.” Re-earning his eyesight, Jade lets a genuine smile peek out from behind her lips. “Hell, if it makes you feel better- put it to a vote” Jade suggests, leaning back into her seat whilst delighted at the result of the conversation. Concealing his sigh, Emilio rests against his chair in much the same way as Jade, giving the woman a gentle nod. “Are we done yet?” Emilio inquires, watching as the rest of Jade’s smile emerges from behind her lips. | “Are you going to tell us why you asked those questions now?” Jack calls out, following the woman and her brothers through the abandoned lobby. “I was deciding on who I was going to take back to our camp” Jade replies, climbing into the bed of a truck as Archie occupies the driver’s seat. “Hold on, we weren’t looking to get into another community!” Emilio eagerly remarks, “we just-” “You just wanted to follow Courtney to Nova Scotia, or do whatever with her for whatever reason. I’ve heard it before” Jade replies, taking a seat upon the truck’s cabin. “Listen, this has nothing to do with her, or the people in Nova Scotia, not wanting you there- there’s just no room up North” Jade warns, watching the disheartened eyes she’s grown to know slightly more than most, “they’ve limited capacity to ten thousand residents. Until people start dying, it’ll be a while before you don’t get turned away at the gates.” “Then why would Courtney tell us to-?” Franklin proceeds to inquire, interrupted with his answer, unable to finish the question Jade has heard plenty of by now. “Courtney keeps a close eye on what’s going on down below” Jade replies, listening to the truck’s engine roar as Archie turns the key in its ignition, “you’re not the first group she’s tried to save from bad company, and I doubt you’ll be the last.” Again left without words, the group stare at the woman, watching her brothers load into the vehicle after returning her notebook.. “What was the point of the questions?” Jack finally wonders aloud, capturing Jade’s attention, “you said you were giving us a fair chance. What fair chance were you referring to?” Putting on a straight face, Jade lets her notebook sit atop her lap, offering the group a sympathetic look. “After the compound in New York fell, the leadership of the New World Order decided to reimagine their strategy for societal reform” Jade explains, leaning forward to speak to the crowd gathered at her truck, “they propped up settlements all over the northeast, had them take on small populations, and in return for free trade with other settlements, perfect a craft they could exploit.” Silent, the group remains captivated, hanging on to Jade’s every word. “In my settlement, we specialise in medicinal goods. Bandages, rubbing alcohol, medications, marijuana. The list goes on” the woman explains, reclaiming her grasp on the notebook, “Courtney is their version of a telephone. Not every settlement has power, so she parlays messages throughout the coast. Our goods are dispersed amongst every other settlement, and every other settlement’s goods are dispersed to each other.” “What happened to the other compounds?” Emilio replies, too many loose screws in the woman’s recollection left unfettered. “Concord fell before New York, but the ‘Big Apple’ was the straw that broke the camel’s back” Jade replies, her shoulders shrugging, “Nova Scotia severed ties with Delaware and the unfinished compound in Toronto and focused on staying coastal.” “You still haven’t answered my question” Jack remarks, again speaking out from within the crowd, “you claimed to be giving us a fair chance. What was that fair chance?” The loose hairs in her face blown from her eyes with a huff of breath, Jade returns her sights to the notebook. “When space opens up in Nova Scotia, the camp takes in a few dozen residents from every compound” Jade replies, giving a frown to the page she stares at, “the only way to Nova Scotia is through me.” As the rest of his group struggles to put the pieces together, Emilio comes to his own conclusion. “So, if we joined you, and you selected us to move up to Nova Scotia, that’d be our ticket in?” Emilio questions, the nod of Jade’s head giving him an answer. “Think of every settlement like small cities” Jade implores, “a quiet little city here, and a quiet little there. If you get called up to Nova Scotia- you go from living in Sioux Falls to living in Los Angeles.” Sharing uncertain looks, the group’s shared pessimism assumes control of the narrative. “If everything were as wonderful as you’re making it out to be, we’d be talking about it over a drive through the city” Alicia replies, quick to find the flaw in the woman’s delivery, “what’s the catch?” Still staring into the page her notebook had opened to, Jade’s spirits begin to lower, her conscience hating this part of the vetting process more with each occurrence. “Emilio Vasquez, Alicia Haven, Salem Ailwood, Lauren Salcedo, Angela Hargraves, Vanessa Mintz” Jade exclaims, calling the most skilled the group has to offer, “you’ve each shown qualities ruled valuable to our community, and are extended an invitation to return with us.” Sharing in groans and concerned grovelling, the group awaits the second shoe to drop, bringing an answer they’ve each come to expect. “Jessica Callis, Franklin Carter, Jack O’Rourke, Katie Dawson, and Clint Mintz” Jade calls aloud, “you have not displayed values our community can find as valuable to our collective future, and will not be offered an invitation to return with us.” “This is bullshit” Lauren murmurs beneath her breath, her head hung as she turns her back to the truck-occupying woman, seeking refuge in Jack’s arms. “You’re not the first group I’ve had to give this news, so I’m aware that this is a difficult decision for you” Jade explains, herself now cut off by the group's de facto leader. “There isn’t a decision to make- we’re not splitting up” Emilio replies, earning Jade’s ire. “I thought you weren’t the one in charge here?” Jade snarkishly remarks, soon finding the sentiment shared amongst the undivided group. “I’m not saying this should be an easy choice, but there is a reason you were following Courtney’s trail. Whether you’d like to admit it or not, you want to get to Nova Scotia” Jade explains, the group she speaks toward reasonable enough to hear her out, “this is the only opportunity you’re going to get- I’m begging you to at least consider it.” “It’s not worth it if half of us are left out here to die” Angela replies, standing by her group’s unanimous disinterest in the offer. Her head hung, Jade lets her breaths steady, the hairs in front of her face beginning to sway with her breath. “We don’t live in fear of other people. We don’t fear having to fend off hordes of the dead. We just live” Jade counsels, “as far as I know, there’s no other society set up to co-exist with this virus, and live in relative normality, outside of ours.” “It’s not relative normal if we’re not all there to see it” Jack argues again, refusing to give the woman any room for reason, “no speech, or promises, or whatever you could make will change our minds.” “I know. And I’m not going to try” Jade replies, cutting the final syllables of the man’s declaration short. “I’m not going to ask you to make this call tonight, I’m just asking that you think it through over the next twenty-four hours” Jade clarifies, her breath fogging the air just below her chin, “we’re coming back tomorrow night. We’ll be right here waiting for any of the invitees that changed their mind until sundown. If you don’t show up, that’s fine. If you do show up, that’s also fine.” The storm having calmed, the group becomes quiet, sharing a few looks at each other as Jade lowers herself into the truck bed. “I’m not going to try to rip you away from each other” Jade promises, tapping her hand against the truck’s cabin roof, concluding her vow as the vehicle begins to drive off, “I’m just trying to give you a chance at a life worth living.” Crushing the plant life sprouting through cracks and grooves in the asphalt, Jade’s truck disappears into the diminishing daylight. Left stood in the middle of the one-street, Emilio and his group watch on, following the flashing red tail lights as they vanish around a corner. “Can you fucking believe that shit!?” Jack exclaims, shaking his head as he turns to walk away, the first to leave the conflict behind. As his body turns away from his peers, Jack’s face turns into a sudden sadness from anger, the conflict of the offer left behind, instead replaced with a moral-bound, deeper conflict internally. “We’re not gonna take the offer, right?” Alicia whispers aloud, looking to anyone she shares the street with, before her eyes ultimately fall upon Emilio. “No” Emilio mutters, the certainty behind his statement rivalled by the uncertainty in his eyes, as if not confident in his reply, “definitely not.” == Rise == Season 5 Premiere
“I think it’s time we stopped running” Lauren murmurs, her frail voice mustering enough strength to cut through the midwinter air. “We’re not running, we’re chasing” Emilio replies, his beard growing thicker as the hairs on his head begin to curl. “We’re a dog chasing a car, Em’” Lauren responds, pressing into Jack’s arms as they wrap around her warmly, “we stand a better chance of getting run over than we do of catching it.” “I don’t see how else we’re supposed to get answers” Emilio retorts, stood with his back turned to the group, his front facing the bivouac’s burning flames. “Why can’t we wait until it gets warmer?” Angela inquires, curled into a ball a few feet away from Jack and Lauren. “I still don’t understand why we’re chasing her to begin with” Clint adds, sharing a heavy, warm blanket with Nessie, “what are these answers you’re looking for?” “Don’t worry about them” Emilio sharply responds, each remark he makes coming away with little emotion, only a monotone rejoinder given each time. “If you’re asking us to camp out in the middle of nowhere every night, in the middle of January, you’re gonna have to give us more than that” Nessie counters, calmly voicing her obvious frustrations aloud, “I can feel this unspoken fear that you’ve all got- so quit stringing us along, please?” Panning toward any open pair of eyes, Nessie waits for a response that seemingly refuses to arrive, intent on leaving her curiosities shrouded in darkness. Disheartened, Nessie settles back into her rest, frustrated at the display of secrecy she’s been met with, allowing that anger to boil toward the metaphorical pot’s edge. “We fucked up a long time ago” Alicia suddenly remarks, taking the eyes of those in the camp toward her, every pair aside from two, purposefully distant. “We were part of a community in New York around the time this all started” Alicia continues, her eyes kept upon the snow-covered ground. “Our camp was one of a few scattered around, and this one woman was in charge of all of them” Alicia explains, her right hand given a gentle, reassuring squeeze from Franklin, “that camp went under, partially because of us. And if this place in Nova Scotia is what we think it is- we might be in trouble.” “It is” Salem replies, cutting through the bleak silence to heighten concern, “I’m not a genius in Canadian geography, but I doubt there are multiple refineries running in the same state as each other.” “Province. Canada has provinces- but I see your point” Franklin replies, his eyes leaning in Salem’s direction as he shrugs. “Oh, come on. If anyone was going to know that, it’d be the politicians” Franklin jokes, warming the conversation enough to earn an amused shrug from his sniper rifle-wielding counterpart. “The point we’re trying to make is-” Alicia begins, a momentary pause cutting into her statement, “well, I guess we’re trying to make multiple points.” “And they all lead back to Charlotte” Emilio interjects sharply, the group’s subtly rising amusement quickly forced down at just the mention of the woman’s name. “It doesn’t matter if we want to or not, we’re not getting to escape the truth anymore than we get to escape our past” Emilio explains, the first distant survivor to re-immerse themselves within the group, “if we’re setting out for Nova Scotia, we’re setting out for the New World Order- and we need to know what we’re walking into.” The realization beginning to dawn on her, Angela recites Emilio’s claim under more digestible terms. “So, we might not even be welcomed into Nova Scotia?” the woman replies, her voice soft, “and, in order to find out if it’s even an option, we need to ask the person that spends all day flying thousands of feet in the air, because they’re the only ones that would know?” Taking a seat on the ground, Emilio’s shoulders shrug. “Why bother going out to Nova Scotia in the first place at that point?” Clint inquires, a question his sister finds more than reasonable enough to warrant an answer, “we haven’t needed gas in years- why not pick a better place to settle than an island?” “Because this isn’t just another place to settle” Emilio replies, pressing his index finger into the snow-dampened dirt, “this could be our real home.” Met with a chuckle the moment ‘home’ left his lips, Emilio turns toward his left, where Lauren laughs almost uncontrollably. “Oh, for fuck’s sake- where have I heard that one before?” the woman wonders aloud, every pair of eyes aside from one taking to her direction. “Tori promised me that- it failed miserably. John promised that with the New World Order- it failed spectacularly” the woman remarks, only continuing the longer everyone else remains silent. “That Neville guy promised Alicia that- it didn’t work. Sheol promised Angela that- it didn’t work. Sun City promised all of us that- who here thinks that worked?” Lauren finishes, again taking her face toward Emilio, “let’s face the music here- we don’t do ‘forever homes’. All we do is tear them down.” “She’s not wrong” Katie half-heartedly remarks, diligently cleaning the separated parts of her own rifle, “we’ve spent three months chasing this helicopter person around, and it might be the most stable this group has ever been- aside from one person in particular.” Tending to her weapon, Katie’s eyes lift toward the darkest depths of the group, a face barely lit from the fire slowly turning back to her. “Fuck you” Jess murmurs, having spent the last few hours sat against a rock with her head aimed at the sky, dressed poorly for the weather in only a light jacket and a pair of jeans. “To each their own” Katie replies, refocusing herself on the weapon in her lap as Emilio interjects, putting a stop to the dissension that threatens to persist. “This could be our last night together. Sure, any night could be- but with what’s coming tomorrow morning, there’s a serious chance some of us won’t live to see tomorrow night” Emilio explains, striking down the arguments with ease, gratified with the silence he’s met with. “We’re an hour’s walk away from Providence, and I don’t want to spend that time arguing” Emilio remarks, his voice still calm, “can we please, even if it’s just for tonight, not feel the need to fight with each other?” Silent, the group reigns in for the night. “We know where she’ll be, and we know what she wants from us” Emilio explains, a brick-tied note carried in his right hand, “for once, we’ve got a clear plan- let’s be glad to know what we’re walking into tomorrow.” Met with a few nods, Emilio watches the group gradually begin to settle as light snowflakes fall from the cloudy night skies above. “We have to be ready for what lies ahead” Emilio concludes, his voice near a whisper, just loud enough for the group to hear, “and we have to take comfort in what we have now.” = Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 3 onwards = Crouching beneath the overgrown grass on what was once a well-maintained street, Emilio leads his group across snow-covered ground, his eyes set on one building in particular. “This place has been abandoned for- fuck, probably since I moved to Bridgeport” Jack remarks, taking his place as one of the group’s guiding voices, “I doubt it’s been looked after since the dead rose, so I’d step carefully if I were you.” “Hold on- that’s a good point” Angela whispers, stationed near the rear of the group, only ahead of Clint and Jess, “we should stay in small groups. If we find a path we don’t like the look of, we won’t put too much stress on it.” “Yeah, that works” Emilio replies, panning his eyes over those behind him. “Salem, Alicia and Franklin are naturals at that- they’ll go together” Emilio remarks, “I’ll take Clint and Nessie. Katie can roll with Jess and Angela.” “Lauren and I can handle ourselves in a pair” Jack replies, a gesture Emilio accepts graciously. “Alright, Katie, Jess and Angela can go looking for something of use we can take back to camp if necessary” Emilio explains with a nod, “it’s not like I wouldn’t want you watching our backs- but someone’s gotta to do it.” “We’ll look for supplies if you need” Jack replies, taking a glance back in Katie’s direction, “it’s up to you. We don’t mind doing either.” Sharing a look between herself, Jess and Angela, Katie returns her eyes to Jack with a confident look. “I think it might help to have a sniper on standby if need be” Katie responds, fastening the strap over her shoulder, “but the offer’s appreciated.” Bumping their fists, Jack and Katie return their eyes to the front of the line, all boxes checked accordingly. “Alright, let’s move” Emilio orders, cautiously lifting his head just over the tallgrass, leading the group from the forefront as a decoy. “I think we’re in the clear” Emilio murmurs, having spent the last minute opening himself up for potential gunfire, clearing the air for the rest of the group to descend upon the destination more comfortably. “Alright, Clint and Nessie- We’ll head for the roof, everyone else can take on whatever posts they want” Emilio instructs, letting out a deep breath as he arms himself with a knife, “things can go south, so we should prepare to be here for a while if they do.” Vanishing into the echo-friendly lobby of what was once a bank, Emilio’s group leaves behind those entrusted to debate jobs amongst themselves. “If I remember correctly, the main staircase can take us to the top floor” Jack mumbles beneath his breath, “so, if Emilio’s heading to the roof, Lauren and I will start clearing out the floors, top-to-bottom.” “Then we’ll start clearing them out bottom-to-top” Alicia replies, readying her spear for combat as her group follows Jack and Lauren toward the steps. “I guess that just leaves us” Katie follows, turning her head toward an unamused Jess and a curious Angela, their presentations impossibly different from one another. | “So, how does it feel?” Nessie inquires, following Emilio up the rear stairwell, the man’s face squinting out of confusion. “How does what feel?” the man replies, turning the bannister to ascend the next collection of dust-covered concrete steps. “To be the big guy in the group” Nessie replies, listening to the breathy laughter emerging from the man above, “what? Did you think we didn’t know who called the shots around here?” His head shaking, Emilio continues to climb each slightly-higher platform at his toes. “I’m not the big guy” Emilio responds, wrapping the fingers on his left hand around the bannister, his palm gliding up the paint-peeled balustrade the higher he ascends. “Yes, you really are” Nessie replies, a few steps lower than Emilio whilst only a single step higher than her brother, “you can try all you wish, but you’re not gonna convince me someone else is leading this group.” His eyes rolling as he begins to smile, Emilio continues to shake his head, offering every gesture to refuse the position set upon him. “The group doesn’t have a leader. We make decisions based off of what we need, and we deal with whatever happens in whatever way feels right” Emilio retorts, taking another glance at the woman below him, “I’m not the big guy.” Amusingly pressing her lips together as she gaily replies, “yeah, sure bud” Nessie retorts, listening to the loud sigh Emilio is left to react with. “I’m aware of how often I bring it up, but I used to be a politician” Emilio remarks, sharing the muffled giggle of the company behind him, “so I know that it’s ironic for me to say this, but I like to believe people have the power. I don’t agree with giving all the power to one person- John was the exception.” “Wait, why was John the exception?” Clint retorts, stopping in the middle of the stairway just before his sister chooses to do the same. “Wait, I think the better question is- how did John become the leader?” Nessie replies, watching Emilio ascend another few steps before noticing his company’s hesitance to follow “What do you mean ‘how did John become the leader’?” Emilio replies, resting his right arm against the guardrail, “he just was.” “Did you elect him?” Clint questions, watching Emilio struggle to follow the dialogue the brother and sister begin to spin. “N- no” Emilio stutters, slightly beginning to lean forward, his eyes never once leaving the stair-length distanced pair, “why?” “Well, it’s kind of odd to say you’re against giving someone all the power when that’s the only way your own group has ever functioned” Clint replies, “it doesn’t really add up.” Shaking his head, Emilio lifts his hand toward the man, quietly clarifying his statement in his head before voicing it. “Everyone was split up when this all started. They took their own path, and they all led to the New World Order” Emilio recalls, “Charlotte put John in charge of the camp, and the rest was history.” “So, Charlotte appointed John, and you all just went with it from there?” Nessie replies, “none of the others had leaders of their own groups?” With a muffled laugh, Emilio argues the opposite. “Of course they did, well- with the exception of Salem, Alicia and Franklin.” “And how did all of that work out?” Nessie replies, watching the shame-ridden satisfaction Emilio takes from his offered answer. “Have you ever heard of Shauna, Reggie or Tyler? Have you heard anyone mention my husband by name? How frequently have you heard Katie talk about Troy? When was the last you heard of Janice? Or Meghan? Or the other Tyler without reading their names off a gravestone?” Emilio riddles off, almost disgusted in having to speak the names of the lost. “The first batch were led by Jack- they’re all dead. Janice, Meghan and Bill were all in the same pact- they’re worm food. Troy was Katie’s foster brother, and I think you can guess what happened to him” Emilio murmurs, “only one group from that point is still alive in full, and it’s the ones that lead together. We’ve experimented with different ways of protecting ourselves, and keeping everyone at the same level of say in the matter has worked out better than the others.” The humour once held in his voice now absent, Emilio continues to look down at the siblings, waiting for a response. “Alright” Clint mumbles, stepping past his sister as he climbs up the remaining stairs. With a nod, Emilio walks away equally satisfied and repulsed with the conversation, preparing to climb the next flight of steps as Clint follows closely behind, leaving Nessie to remain where she stopped, processing the statements made before resuming her rise. | “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if the zombies never showed up?” Lauren wonders, following Jack through the halls of a furniture-scattered floor. “When I have nothing better to do, sure” Jack replies, running his finger across an overturned desk, his skin covered in grey-ish dust, “but I usually spend that time having sex with you.” Amused, Lauren quickly returns the conversation back to the initial question. “I’m serious, though. It’s getting harder to remember what the world used to be like” Lauren replies, holding a makeshift spear at her side, “I can’t even remember what I thought the future was going to be like anymore.” Sucking in a deep breath through his teeth, Jack shakes his head with an equally-deep exhale, struggling to conjure up an answer. “Well, I guess I expected to keep working at the warehouse” Jack replies, creating a cloud of dust as he wipes his hand over the seat of an old, turquoise-coloured chair. “Probably would have met someone, dated them, moved on” Jack replies, his assumptions growing sadder as he takes a seat, “probably become manager. Keep working, then drop dead.” “How ambitious” Lauren jokes, following the man toward the chair before taking a seat on his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck as she leans her head upon his shoulder. “I didn’t have a lot going for me before this all began. I’m not gonna lie and say I would’ve bought a mansion or founded the next Google” Jack replies, tucking his chin over Lauren’s head, “even if I spend every minute risking my life now, everything falling into disrepair was probably a blessing for me.” Closing her eyes, Lauren gets comfortable in Jack’s arms, letting the conversation settle for the next few minutes, only restarting upon Jack’s behest. “How about you?” Jack replies, lowering his voice to a calming hush, “what would you have done before all of this began?” Her eyes rolling, Lauren struggles to keep herself from laughing. “I have no idea” the woman replies, struggling to remember the final days of society as they existed. “I know Alicia and I had our first day of classes delayed because someone lit our school on fire” Lauren recalls, earning an unashamed spurt of laughter from the man beside her. “Yeah, whoever tried their hand at revenge really stuck a fork in the final year of my masters degree that’s for sure” Lauren jokes, nudging her head into the cradle of Jack’s shoulder, “I probably would’ve bussed tables for a year, then started looking for work.” “No student loans?” Jack replies, hearing the faint ‘mmm mmm’ hum from within Lauren’s closed lips. “I had a 4.0 GPA. Lucked myself into knowing the right people and got myself a scholarship. I got the full ride” Lauren grumbles, incapable of holding back her grin, “I was a smart cookie.” “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest” Jack replies, quick to voice his belief of the woman’s claims, “I always felt like we came from different sides of the track.” Sharing in the humour, Lauren’s muffled laughter grows less present, her mind focusing on other, less happy thoughts. “Do you think we would have met if none of this ever happened?” Lauren wonders, her eyes beginning to part, “not necessarily date, but just.. know each other existed?” Looking into Lauren’s face, Jack’s expression becomes less enthused, finding the same depressing realisation Lauren had stumbled upon. “As hard as it is to think about, probably not” Jack replies, noticeably disappointed, “Shauna and Reggie had friends I’d only ever known by the sound of their name. So, if I had to get close enough to my boss to meet Meg, and then get close enough to her to meet you- I don’t think the odds would have been in our favour.” “Right” Lauren nods, resisting the temptation to dwell on the negatives for too long. “I guess we’ve found a new reason to be grateful for the end of the world, huh?” Lauren inquires, her smile beginning to sprout up again as she looks into Jack’s eyes, his expression returning to its previously warm state as well. | “This place is filthy” Alicia grovels, removing a web from the rung of a nearby ladder, “I know Jack said it’s been abandoned for a decade now, but if you tried to convince me it had been a few decades, I might just believe you.” Concealing her laughter, Salem struts through the room with her rifle in tow, a knife tucked into a band on her forearm. “Good luck finding a road that’s not covered in grass nowadays” Franklin replies, tapping the blade at the end of his metal cap against the same ladder, “everything ages like milk now. It’s an honour to even remember what asphalt looks like anymore.” Approaching a window in the back of the room, Salem glances out at the streets below, the sights she finds immediately lifting her eyebrows. “Take a look at this” Salem remarks, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to glance down at the world from above, “can you imagine that this was once the capital of a whole state?” Joining in the woman’s awe, Alicia and Franklin stare in amazement at what lies below, the sight of asphalt few and far, the cracks that have built within the roads now spreading once-contained greenery across what once guided America. “It’s a lot prettier than I would have thought” Alicia murmurs, conflicted as to be sad at the illustration of time’s passing, or happy to have witnessed what was once thought to be unimaginable. “It’s peaceful” Franklin replies, listening to the sound of absolute silence encompass the room, the aura bringing a smile to his face. “It’s justified” Salem corrects, pleased with the look of the world, “we built our world upon nature, and now that it’s gone, nature’s come back.” “It’s ironic, wouldn’t you say?” an unfamiliar, fourth voice proclaims from behind the trio, prompting their rotation. Armed with her rifle, Salem shares the same discovery as Alicia and Franklin, outgunned by three shotgun-wielding men, who stand beside a notably unarmed woman. “If you’d be so kind as to cooperate, we can all leave this room much happier and much more alive” the woman explains, an amused pep in her step. Black hair rolling over the brown coat she wears above a black tank top, the woman remains calm and purposefully unimposing. “I promise, you’re not in any position to threaten us with your rifle, and we don’t want to give you a reason to believe you need to” the woman continues, watching Alicia lower her spear to the ground in cooperation, “even if you don’t believe so, and even if I don’t necessarily know for sure that we are, I believe we’re on the same side.” “Psst” Alicia whispers, Salem’s attention being offered toward her friend whilst the barrel of her rifle is offered toward the strangers. “We’re not carrying anything worth stealing, and they would have shot us already if they wanted to” Alicia denotes, “the safest option we have is to do as they say.” “Listen to your friend, snipey” the unfamiliar woman urges, watching Salem’s face dart back toward her, “we know why you’re here, we know who you’re here for, and all we need to tell you is that we’re not here to harm you.” Reluctant, Salem turns back to Alicia, watching Franklin unscrew the bayonet from his metal cap and place it gently upon the floor. “You better be right” Salem growls at Alicia, pulling the strap of her rifle over her head as she rests it on the ground, trusting in Alicia’s judgement. | “Clint, can you get the flares?” Emilio inquires, propping the rooftop entry open for Nessie to climb through. With a quiet nod, Clint strolls around the walkway with his hands over his chest, holding the jacket against himself as the bitter winds begin to pick up. “I think I see a pattern with your story” Nessie remarks, climbing the final rung before joining Emilio on the building’s highest platform. “Can we stop talking about why I’m still alive and just enjoy the view?” Emilio replies, pressing his arms against the bannister as he looks out from the highest point in the city. “I’m pretty sure we can do both” Nessie responds, leaning her arms against the same bannister, her hair still thrown by the wind despite being tucked behind her ears. “I don’t think I’d like to do both” Emilio counters, his sights set on the nature-covered sides of buildings, and snow-covered dead grass in the street. “Do you really not think you’re the leader of this group?” Nessie wonders aloud, the answer to her question easy for the man to give. “No, I don’t” Emilio replies, forced to squint his eyes in order to see what lies in the distance, “someone for people to look for confidence in? Sure. But the one that makes decisions? Not a chance in hell.” “Is that true, or is that just what you tell yourself?” Nessie inquires, looking at the side of the increasingly irritated man’s face. “It’s both” Emilio replies, beginning to shut himself down, retreating to simple answers that pave the way for little perspective. “Do you think you’re the good guy?” Nessie proceeds to ask, catching the man by surprise, Emilio’s face turning to her with a sour look. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Emilio queries, genuinely intrigued in the woman’s response. “Because from the sound of it- you’re not” Nessie answers, watching the man’s eyebrows begin to furrow, “you followed the lead of a man who, while I don’t disagree had room for a lot of good in his heart, did some pretty foul shit.” “John wasn’t perfect, but he was far from ‘the bad guy’” Emilio replies, watching Nessie respond with a reluctant expression. “Alright, let me ask you this. How did the New World Order fall in New York?” Nessie inquires, watching the hesitance in Emilio’s face as he prepares to answer, though he struggles to come up with one. “They’re not here!” Clint shouts, returning to the duo before his sister’s question can be answered, an unpleasant discovery to warn of. “What’s not here!?” Emilio exclaims, his voice battling with the wind. “The flares!” Clint shouts, rounding the corner to rejoin his group, “they’re not where you said they’d be.” Stepping past the man, Emilio walks off to take a look for himself, unfolding the note in his pocket to follow its guidance. “You said they’d be in a box, tucked under some pipes with an orange splotch of paint on them!” Clint exclaims, following Emilio to the spot, everything left accurately as directed aside from the missing flares, “they’re not there!” “No, this can’t be right” Emilio mumbles to himself as Nessie catches up. “Could they have fallen off the roof?” the woman questions, taking a glance at the building’s circular ledge, it’s circumference entirely covered by a ten-foot tall fence. “Unless this wind is a fucking tornado, I don’t think it fell off the roof” Emilio replies, again stepping past his fellow survivors, returning the way he’d arrived. Descending the stairwell, Emilio leads Nessie and Clint back the way they had arrived, anxious to find the signal pistols before their paramotorist guide arrives. “Where are we going!?” Nessie exclaims, curiously following Emilio without understanding why. “If they’re not there, someone must have taken them” Emilio replies, rounding the corner to the next set of stairs, working his way toward ground level, “we need to find out who it was before they fly-” His quick descent coming to a screeching halt, Emilio pauses halfway down the stairs, looking to the wall ahead with widened eyes. ‘Emilio, Vanessa, Clint. Through the door, down the hall, find your flares.’ Scrawled on the wall in black paint, Emilio’s directions are simple, the arrow that stretches below the instructions aimed toward the nearest door, propped open with an empty flare gun. “What do-?” Clint begins to ask, only for his question to be met with Emilio’s resuming descent, his eyes set on following the given orders. Without a word, Emilio steps through the hallway with Clint and Nessie closely behind, his box of flares left placed gently in the centre of the room. Without thinking, the lead figure steps through the dark corridor and reaches for the box, prompting an amused reaction from an unfamiliarly feminine voice. “You should probably lose that tunnel vision you’ve got there” the woman murmurs, the three men accompanying her holding a steady aim with their shotguns. “It may not be a bad thing to have now, but it could really bite you in the ass next time” the woman jokes, stood behind every member of Emilio’s group, each survivor left sitting cross-legged on the ground, their mouths taped over, and their hands bound at their waist. “I know this looks really evil, but I couldn’t have them trying to warn you before you walked in” the woman explains calmly, watching Emilio, Nessie and Clint raise their hands in surrender. “If you came in guns blazing, that wouldn’t have been good for any of us” the woman continues, stepping around the accumulated group on her way toward Emilio, “and if you didn’t come in at all- well, that would have been really anti-climactic.” “What do you want?” Emilio immediately asks in a stern tone, hesitant to maintain anything other than his suspicions. “To introduce myself” the woman replies, raising her hands into the air to match Emilio’s surrender, only to lower one to her side, extending it for a handshake. “I’m Jade, and the people holding you at gunpoint are my brothers. From left to right, you’ve got Archie, Oliver, and Isaac” the woman explains, “and we’ve been told to meet you here.” “Told by who?” Emilio replies, remaining hesitant to shake the woman’s hand, his arms remaining held in the air. “A mutual friend” the woman replies, her lips covered in a shade of dark, brooding purple lipstick, “the same one you see flying through the skies on occasion.” “How do you know about them?” Emilio quickly asks, his persistent questions beginning to irk the woman his narrative is controlled by. “I share mutual interests with our mutual friend, and that’s all I’ll say until I know I can trust you” Jade replies, stretching out the fingers on her extended palm, “shaking my hand would be a great start in accomplishing that.” Spending the next few seconds considering his choices, Emilio lets his right hand cautiously drop to his side, taking the woman’s palm pressing into his own. “I hate to have to break this to you, but she didn’t bring you here to meet her. She brought you here to meet me” Jade explains, gently taking two folding chairs into her hand before setting them up across from each other before lowering herself into one. “She?” Emilio replies, confused by the woman’s remarks as he lowers himself into the chair. “Yes, your sky-bound friend is a she.. However, she prefers to be go by Courtney” Jade replies, crossing her right leg over her left as her thigh-high boot, the leather still reflective as if they had just been bought, hangs off the side of her thigh, “would you mind if I ask you and your friends some questions, Emilio?” With a glance toward the pile of his friends, Emilio makes his decision, looking Jade in the eyes as he responds. “Go ahead.” == Rise == |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
October 2023
Categories |
RSS Feed
